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moon-lixie · 3 years

Text

about a letter left to be found and a boy who disappeared into thin air.

word count: 2.046k

genre: slight angst

song: 말할 수 없는 비밀 (Secret Secret) - Stray Kids

I don't think any of you would be able to understand, not even if I sit down and speak all of my truths. Still, I think I owe an explanation.

With trembling hands he gathered his things, the notebooks filled with dreams spilling from the edges of every page, his favourite hoodies, the pair of bright red headphones he had since the beginning of high school.

From the open window a cold breeze came in and ruffled the slightly damp hair of the boy, paying special attention to the ends that were still clamped together due to the dampness.

He wasn't exactly in a hurry, but he still felt nervous and anxious, because even if it was almost impossible, at the back of his mind he was haunted by the idea of someone coming in and stopping him.

Moving quickly he reached down for the towel hanging around his shoulders and ruffled his hair a couple of times more until he felt satisfied.

First of all, I have no idea where I am going but know that I'm fine.

A loud sigh caressed his lips as it escaped, filling the room that he had always called his own, his little world nobody could disrupt because in between the forgotten comics and the piles of clothes sprawled here and there he had felt more at home than he has ever felt anywhere else.

Throwing the towel to the basket of dirty laundry at the end of the hallway, he finally finished everything he had to do, simply being left with staring at himself in the mirror and fixing the wild strands of hair that had been upset by the freshly washed hoodie hugging his torso.

He could barely muster a smile at his reflection, not because he was sad, but because it all felt surreal in a sense that left him wondering if it was still the middle of the night many years ago and the last years had been nothing but the hopeful dreams of his younger self.

Maybe it's a bit selfish of me to simply leave without a warning, but please understand that I want much more than this place could ever offer me.

He closed the front door of his house, locking it with the pair of keys his mother had given him once he turned twelve; they were still held together by the Pororo keychain he had bought one day after school with such an overwhelming excitement that made the memory pull at the corners of his lips.

It felt bizarre to walk away from the entrance of his home knowing that he was never really going to come back, that this was the last time.

Just like the very first time he had arrived there along with a moving truck packed with boxes and furniture, he felt breath leave his lungs at the sight of the white façade. It made him stop for a second and contemplate in utter silence.

Goosebumps coated the length of his arms once he turned around and kept moving forward at a steady pace, leaving his old bike behind as well.

Know that the decision to leave wasn't made in a haste, I've been thinking about it for long and now just seemed like the perfect time.

Mr. Kim lazily waved in his direction, gentle smile and downturned eyes with the familiar brown that reminded Jisung of his grandfather; maybe that's where he would go next, to visit his grandfather.

Without much thought he returned the sweet and familiar greeting, feeling a bit nostalgic when he thought back to all the summers that he had spent working with the man in his garden.

Back then a young Jisung had been happy to make a few bucks while getting to stay out all day in the yard playing with bugs and with the sun kissing the skin of his chubby cheeks and legs that weren't covered by his favourite pair of green shorts.

He couldn't help but wonder where had all that time run to because despite being the one who lived through it, he could barely make sense or when had he ended up where he was.

Time moved too fast and without a warning, it left everyone wondering.

It isn't easy to leave my whole life behind but it feels right, the mere idea makes me feel lighter because who knows who I'll get to be when I get to the end of my journey.

Perhaps I'll be braver, a little bit smarter, more mature, maybe even a couple of centimetres taller.

He could walk the streets with his eyes closed and still know where every bump and crack was in the sidewalk, he could still point where his old school was, where the closest convenience store stepped in his way and as usual tempted him to buy a snack even on those days were his pockets were empty and his tummy full.

From there he knew his way to everywhere else in town, he even knew how long it would take him to get to said places on foot or with his trusty bike.

It all felt too easy and familiar, too comfortable, and those things weren't bad at all but Jisung thought he had had enough of them. He craved discovering himself inside the walls of another place so foreign that every single one of his truths were only known by himself.

Was it silly? That he thought a change of scenery would make him a new person, one much more alike to who he truly was.

Sometimes talking to someone isn't enough, because you don't think they'll understand, you know they won't. That's why I never said anything about the deepest desires looming in my heart or the biggest fears that tied me down for as long as I can remember.

All the interrogations running leaps around his mind made him walk faster, filling him with the same dreadful excitement he felt every first day of school, one that mixed with nervousness and fear.

He wasn't sure if starting fresh would let him be someone whose fears didn't weigh upon his heart so harshly, he wasn't sure if he would get to be the person he had always wished he could be but he could only hope.

Hope had been what drove him this far and today he was giving it full control of where his feet moved to, control over how his next day would look like or where he would wake up the next day.

Never in his life had he felt more ready to wander around by himself.

But I guess, since I'm going, it's only fair that I try to sit down and talk to someone, hoping that they will understand even if my words are scarce and there will be nobody to talk back to at the end of this letter.

On the horizon the sun rushed to slumber, leaving a comforting lilac pooling around the clouds and making them stand out even more.

Night hovered over his shoulders making him breathe with much more ease because if there was something that portrayed hope and tomorrow with an uncanny resemblance and lack of effort, it was the night sky with its endless stars and its shining moon.

In his childhood days he had discovered that there was no better cure for uncertainty and a nostalgic heart than staring up at the night sky; there was something about it that made him feel like time stopped for an instance, that time wasn't quite as unforgiving while the veil of darkness covered everything.

If he could go anywhere he wanted —which he was already doing— he would wish to go to the sky, not the endless and uncertain space, but the idea of the sky that humans have in their ignorance, a canvas that goes no further than our eyes can see.

Ever since I can remember I've felt like there was a place for me somewhere out there, a place I always called home without knowing what it really was.

It wasn't like I didn't feel at home here, there was just a feeling in my chest that told me out there I could feel completely free in the way I've always craved.

For him it had always felt unfair, how everyone got to live and walk around without the things that kept him back. Of course when he grew older he understood that everyone had their own problems but sometimes that was easy to ignore when one's own darkness loomed around their heart.

He had spent many years wishing, praying to whoever was listening, that he could just be himself without the voices in his head and the uncertainties that made every single one of his steps be cautious.

Nobody seemed to have listened as years went by and things got harder, still, he never gave up and even though he could never really say that there was nothing else bothering him he could at least say that he had everything under control.

If time is unforgiving it also is healing, and for him it had healed many wounds that couldn't be seen.

Unknowingly I spent a lot of time wanting to go to that place, craving to find where it was.

Some years ago I understood that it perhaps wasn't a place but a version of myself that could bring such soothing feelings. That's where I'm going to, that's why I have no destination.

He wanted to believe that nothing had been planned, that his savings carefully stuffed at the bottom of his backpack had just been him being responsible about his money and having enough for the impulsiveness that one day had won over reason and had driven him to this adventure.

He wanted to pretend but it was stupid to do now, there was nobody around to judge him or question his motives, so there was no use in not being honest with himself.

Thinking back to all those evenings spent running around the small restaurant in which he had found a job, he could see that perhaps this plan had been many years in the making.

Unconsciously he had always been hoping for a moment like this, a moment of unadulterated freedom.

Hopefully I do get there, hopefully I get to be happy and everyone I left behind does too.

The journey to happiness, to authenticity, to being unapologetically himself, had taken him to the airport, another thing that wasn't as spontaneous as he had tried to make it seem.

Passport in hand and trembling self, the whiteness of the place and the various people walking back and forth made him realise that this was really going on, he was really leaving.

For the first time in his life overthinking had no place in his plans.

I wish to be who I am meant to and disappearing was perhaps the thing I had always been destined to do. A boy who disappeared into thin air, that's who I am, a boy with secrets that weigh down on my heart and that I'm unwilling to carry with me on this journey.

Approaching the desk he was met with a young woman, in her mid twenties or early thirties, sweet but practised smile covering her lips as she recited the words that he must've learned a long time ago when she first started working there.

"I want a ticket for the next flight available," Jisung said, offering a reassuring smile after the confused look the woman gave him.

He looked around as the sounds of typing filled his ears and before he had time to start regretting something the ticket had been placed on his palm and his savings were short by a considerable amount.

I'm afraid that wasn't much of an explanation but it was my truth.

Good luck and see you whenever we're meant to cross paths.

The last thing he saw before falling asleep were the clouds from above and the sky now completely dark like the many nights he had wondered where he belonged.

Now he had an answer, he belonged wherever he felt free and right then in that comfortable plane seat he felt the freest he had ever been.

#kpop #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fic #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #skz angst #skz comfort #skz han #skz jisung #stray kids han #stray kids jisung #han angst

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rimaiahwrites · 3 years

Text

Red handed—

Chapter seven

After Erik drove away Israel came in to the house grinning even though he low key pissed her off.

She was still happy that she got to spend time with him, Erik was actually bringing happiness and excitement to her dull life and she couldn't be happier about it.

Israel walked right passed her brothers and into the kitchen, not even noticing all her brothers and their friends sitting in the living room looking at her like she lost her mind.

She grabbed a water bottle and began to chug it. Until she heard someone clear their throat. She turned around and started choking on the cold water. Noah got up from the floor and made his way over to pat her on the back.

When she got her choking under Control, she waved at them giving her best smile trying not to look suspicious.

"Who the fuck was that nigga you was wit'?" Her smile dropped.

"What are you talking about I-" Jay cut his eyes at her, daring her to lie to his face. Israel rolled her eyes trying to play it off. "He's Just one of my friends jay, relax."

"Since when do you have guy friends?" He asked walking into the kitchen. Everyone now quiet like he was some sort of king.

"Since when did I have to answer to you?" Israel spit back, looking him up and down. Jay was a bit taken back from her tone because it wasn't like her to get go smart mouth with him.

"Since you were born fuck you mean when? You forgetting that you the youngest?" He said cocking his head back like she just said the most stupidest shit ever. "no but You keep forgetting I'm grown. I can do as I please." She hissed slamming the freighter door shut. "I'm not no damn baby anymore, stop trying to tell me what I can and can't do I'm grown rather you like it or not, the fuck" she said stepping up to him as if he wasn't 6'0 and bulky grown man. not even realizing that she had raised her tone with him...or that she was cussing.

"Girl-" she quickly held her hand up to hush him. "No! I'm so done with this shit! Y'all three get to do whatever y'all want and y'all still live in mom and dads house and don't nobody say shit to y'all but when I hang out with someone of the opposite gender it's a problem? as if you did just sneak that girl In your room not to long ago, as if y'all wasn't fucking in there while mom was downstairs right under your room." She spit out dropping her head down a bit to give him a death stare. She was so irritated and had so much adrenaline running through her, she was shaking.

"You really can't say shit to me jay!" She said slapping her hand on the counter, and her other hand in her hip. Looking like a middle aged black mama yelling at her disobedient child while jay just stood there staring wildly at her but there wasn't much he could say. It was all true. She cut him up and now he was stuck not knowing what to say.

It was quiet in the living room and kitchen.

Jays friends didn't say a thing but they were fully entertained with the argument going on between the two Sibling.

"So what you just fucking random niggas now? Huh? That's where you was last night? At that niggas house being a hoe?" He shouted, veins popping out the side of his head. Israel face dropped at his words and they stung more then she thought they would.

You could hear a pin drop nobody made a move or spoke a word. Just a silent staring contest between the two. Jays fists balled, shoulders squared looking like he was ready to fight while Israel on the other hand was her eyes were getting glossy and her breathing heavy. She could feel the lump in her throat getting harder to swallow.

She cleared her throat and turn to walk back to get her bag by the front door. And heading up stairs, there was nothing else to be said. Israel now knew that her big brother saw her as nothing more then just a hoe, he has made it very clear today.

Israel waited until she was 18 just to talk to men and now he was calling her a hoe not even knowing that she only stayed for the night, And that was all. But there was no point in arguing with jay, he was stubborn and a asshole. if that's what he thought that's what he thought.

She shut her bedroom door and headed straight to her bed, stuffing her face in her pillow tears coming down like a waterfall.

She was Tempted to call Erik just so he could come get her of the hell hole she called home.

Maybe that was over dramatic but she hated it here, she loved her family but being with them 24/7 wasn't something she planned on doing once she turned eighteen. She honestly thought she would have been treated like her brothers were but then again she was never given a fraction of the freedom her brothers has. She was never treated like her feelings mattered, everything has always been about the boys.

You would think that since she's the only daughter her father has she would be treated like a princess and get away with everything but that definitely wasn't the case with her father. She was always the one to get yelled at first, she was always the first one to get blamed for something she didn't do and was always the first to get it the worst of her siblings.

Her father was a strict, mean military man that had no Sympathy for anyone and he clearly passed that down to his oldest son.

She was so sick of crying over them, she was so sick of being mistreated.

With tears still running down her face she sat up and took a deep breath feeling like she was dropping down into that deep hole she liked to hide herself in when she was feeling down.

His words replaying in her head like a broken record. She wasn't a hoe and she knew that and she knew that she didn't sleep with Erik but some how his words sank into her skin so deep that she felt dirty. Like she had committed some sort of sin.

She was only having fun, and finally getting the teenage experience she never got to have when she was younger.

Israel was tired of crying over things her family has said to her it was time for her to stop letting their words hurt her and effort her mental health.

She stood up from her bed and decided that she wanted to take a flower bath and just pray her troubles away.

Erik parked his black Mercedes-Benz G-Class outside of the were house he owned. This was the place he kept all of his weapons, books, important papers and information he had collected over the years of him being in college and the navy.

He and ten of his close friends that he met in the navy had formed a elite group of former navy seals. Their jobs were to Take down small governments and expose them. They also would kill small amounts of police officers and clans men which 9 times outta 10 were the same group of men.

About six months age they made a little mistake that almost got them caught which would've cost them their lives which is why they took a break to regroup to better themselves. Erik and three of his boys ace, zeik and Rae all trained the hardest they ever have far as fighting techniques, Brent, rocky and von all worked with weapons and the rest of the boys were hackers.

Today was their first meeting in six months. Erik has changed Plans and moved things from the original date so this meeting is important.

Erik walked to the side door of the warehouse and slide up the side paneling to reveal the handprint scanner, that was the only way to get into it up less you climb to the very top and through the window but the chances of that happening was slim. Once he was into he went to the corner of the large warehouse and behind the staircase that lead you to go upstairs which was empty.

He walked into the staircase little door where there was a another door that used Voice activation to open. "State your name please." a robotic voice said as it Scanned his face. "Erik Stevens."

"Face scan complete, welcome back erik." The voice said as the heavy Metal door opened to Reveal his underground lab. "Feels good to be back." Erik Chuckled as he walked down the steps. All of his boys turned their heads from the game of pool to Erik. "Ayo Erik where you been at motherfucka you was supposed to be here a hour and a half ago." Erik grin as he dubed ace up ignoring zeik interrogation. "Right and you be the main one mad if Someone else late to the meetings." Rae butted in.

Erik rolled his eyes.

"If y'all don't shut the fuck up, I gotta life to I just got caught up." He shrugged them off as he walked over to his desk. Rae eyebrows raised as he looked at the rest of them and they all were just as confused as him. Erik and "personal" just didn't go together in the same sentence, if he wasn't working out he was working. Erik was always work, work, work.

Brent smirked as he grabbed his water bottle and took a sip "him must got a new bitch or sum'" ace snorted "nigga yeah right that nigga ain't been in a relationship in years, Erik fucks and dips." It was true. That just wasn't like Erik.

"All I hear is you motherfuckas being worried about me let's get to work!" Erik clap his hands exactly as he went into the meeting room with the rest of the men following.

After a four hour meeting they had finally figured everything out. It was now 10:46 and Erik was tired, Israel sleeping over had him exhausted since it fucked up his sleep schedule. On a normal day Erik was in bed 11 o'clock and up at 6 o'clock in the morning. Sleep was very important to a healthy life style. It was Proven that people that get at least 7 hours of sleep they live longer.

Soon as Erik got home he took a shower and got straight in bed. he didn't even bother putting on clothes.

It's almost been a week since Erik has last spoken to Israel since he had been so busy. It's been strictly wake up, eat, work, train and work some more he didn't really have time to hang or call.

He felt a little bad for it but he knew that she knew he wasn't ignoring her intentionally...at least he hoped she knew that.

Today Erik was going to the gun range with ace just to do some training and catch up with him since they really hasn't had the chance to do that.

Since ace's car was in the shop right now so erik decided to pick him up instead of him catching a Uber. Soon as erik pulled up to aces Apartment he saw he step out of his door and jogged over to the passenger side.

"Wassup E," he said as he sat his bag down in the back seat. "Wassup bro you ready to show these niggas how to aim?" Erik said jokily as he drove off.

Erik cooked his AMT and aimed it at the head of the paper man all the way in the range and let multiple bullets fly from it giving him a slight rush. He adjusted his safety glasses and gripped the handle of the gun again before pulling the trigger but aiming at a different figure. Him and ace were both in their own little worlds before the ringtone from Erik's phone pulled him back down to earth, it caught aces attention too.

It was Israel.

Erik beamed down at the screen but Debated if he should answer it or not, he wanted to he really did but decided it would be best if he called her later since he could barely hear from all the gun shots being fired.

"Who was that? Got you smiling and shit..." ace asked with his eyebrows raised. Placing his gun down to face Erik. "Nigga why you so damn nosy?" Erik cut his eyes at him while blindly putting his phone back into his pocket.

"What you mean nigga? I'm just trying to see who making my dawg so happy is that a crime?" He said jokingly jerking his head back. Erik rolled his eyes.

"It's was one of my friends." Erik stated before grabbing his gun again trying to get off the topic. Ace put his hand out and pushed the gun down before he could pull the trigger.

"What friend? cause the last time i checked we had the same circle of friends?" Erik sigh getting annoyed with aces interrogation. Did he want to tell his best friend about Israel? Hell nah. Because he know his best friend and he knows he's going to go over bored and start doing the most with questions.

"You don't know her. Drop it nigga."

"Her? So you got a bitch or sumn'" Erik shock his head not even meaning to slip up and say anything. It was to late to take back now. "Nah she not my girl, we just been chilling." Erik shrugged, as he corrected him.

"Lemme see what she look like nigga how you know I don't know her?"

"Hell nah nigga stop being nosy-"

"Ok but if I had a bitch I would show you-"

"She not a bitch tho." Erik said sternly in their back and forth bickering. As annoyed as Erik was ace had a point and they both knew it. Ace talked to him about everything and if he was interested in a girl Erik would be the first to know about it. Erik put his gun on safety and sat it down before digging In his back pocket to grab his phone.

He scrolled through his camera until he found his favorite picture of Israel. It was one she sent to him not to long ago, her hair was wild with tiny ringlet coils. Her lips and mouth were stained red from the dumdum that hung from it. She had her white silk night gown on and a dainty rose flower necklace that hung between her collarbone.

Erik handed him the phone and watched as he brought his fist up to his mouth. "Nigga she fine as fuck damn where you find her at?"

"A party I went to not to long ago, she was shy as fuck she would barely talk to me." Erik chuckled taking his phone back to put it back in his pocket. "We been hanging out the last few weeks, she cool." Erik said nonchalantly to make it seem like he wasn't feeling shordy as much as he was. To someone like didn't know Erik as well as ace did he would've them really thinking he didn't like her and it wasn't a big deal but ace knew.

"You feeling her?" Ace asked facing Erik now, Erik shrugged.

"Like I said she cool."

"Mm." Was all ace said. Erik didn't need to answer, ace already knew the answer.

#black panther killmonger #erik killmonger #erik stevens fanfiction #erik stevens fic #erik x oc #killmonger x oc #killmonger fic #killmonger x reader #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger #killmonger imagine

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xxwritemeastoryxx · 3 years

Text

Welcomed Distraction

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Damon Salvatore x Reader

Word count: 1.7K

Warnings: Mentions of plotting murder but nothing else?

Author’s note: Welcome to fluff week! And here is how we're gonna start the week off. With a very Anti-Valentines day fic. What other way is there to start this holiday? XD I swear this is the only anti vday fic I have for this week. It is kinda Vday centered, so it's not like ya'll are missing out. Plus I needed this scenario. And I could only picture Damon for this so, here you go!

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things

Flires covered the halls with posters for the dance this weekend. The Bitter Ball was meant for all of those that were heartbroken could get together and express how much they hated Valentine's Day. Of course those that celebrated were going to be out on their dates, spending their time with their loved ones.

Y/N wouldn’t be going out on a fancy date. Nor would she be spending her time at the Bitter Ball. It wasn’t like she had recently experienced heartbreak that would make her want to attend the dance. She was just single.

She had tried proving several times that there was nothing wrong with it. But of course her friends had tried setting her up with someone days before, but it didn’t end up working out. And Y/N actually preferred that. Why spend the money to show off how much you love someone on one specific day.

This way she could stay home for the night. It meant she could stay in her pajamas and binge watch whatever was on Netflix that caught her interest. There was no need to get dressed up for anyone and that was how she wanted it. All that was needed was an assortment of junk food and a drink of her choice.

And it was as Y/N was getting ready to plop into her bed and begin watching a serial killer documentary when there was a knock at her door. For a brief moment, she thought of just ignoring it and climbing into bed. But the other part of her believed that if it was anyone had to come find her, it must have been important and left her room to go answer the door.

Her eyebrow raised as she took in Damon Salvatore standing on the opposite side. She could see he had obviously been dressed for the Bitter Ball. The all black outfit had given that away seeing as it was a requirement for it.

“You know, when I was told everyone was heading to the Bitter Ball, I was surprised not to see you there.” Damon said as he leaned against the doorframe.

“I’m not bitter.” Y/N said as she took a step back to allow him to enter her home. “I’m single. There’s a difference.”

“I doubt everyone that’s there isn’t exactly bitter.” He said as he walked in.

Y/N chuckled and shook her head. “Caroline is bitter.” She noted. “You on the other hand, I can't exactly figure out why you’d want to go to the anti-valentines day ball.”

It was his turn to chuckle. “A bitter heart tends to lead to nights of very entertaining activities.” A smirk pulled at his lips, causing her to roll her eyes. “I mostly went because I thought my partner in crime would be there to be miserable with me. But she wasn’t there and when I found her, she’s ready to veg out without so much as giving me an invite.”

Her eyebrow raised. “I never took you for wanting to stay in and just eat junk food while watching serial killer documentaries.”

“Not with just anyone.” He said with a shrug. “But with you, I’d do it.”

Y/N eyed him a moment. For as long as she had known the man standing in front of her, she had never just been content to just sit there and watch documentaries. After a few seconds she nodded her head. “100 says you’ll get bored and start complaining about some of the cases.”

Damon laughed and shook his head. “That’s a bet I’ll take and even win.”

“Somehow I doubt that.” She said with a shake of her head as she began making her way back towards her room with him in tow.

As they both had settled into Y/N’s bed, Damon had every intention of winning the bet. If it meant he could spend some time with Y/N, he was going to do so. At least that was until they got some details wrong about a case that he had personally had a part in and that seemed to irk him.

A smirk had pulled at Y/N’s lips as she watched him from the corner of her eye. She could see the way his face either scrunched up in disbelief at the facts that had been pouring out of the narrator. Or even the way he sat up straighter and crossed his arms over his chest. It was in complete contrast to how laidback and comfortable Y/N had been.

“Just admit it, you’re ready to complain.” Y/N said as she never took her eyes off the tv.

Damon shook his head. “Never. Just really getting into this amazing documentary with all the wrong facts.”

Y/N laughed and stuck out her hand towards him. “That was a complaint. And I’ll take my money now.”

“That was not a complaint.” He said shaking his head as he looked over at her. “That was merely an observation.”

“An observation, my ass.” She chuckled. “That was a complaint on how they have the wrong information.”

“One would say that’s an observation that they gave credit to a serial killer, when in fact it was a Vampire.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders.

“What other observations do you have to voice?” She asked with a raised brow knowing she was about to win the bet.

“For one, they managed to say this guy had over 50 victims when, let’s be honest is more like 10 and was given credit for some that were not in fact his.” Damon continued on with every ‘observation’ he noticed during the first hour of what they’ve seen.

It was as Y/N rolled over on her stomach and propped her head on her fist, and a small smirk pulled at her lips that Damon realized he had gone into a full blown tangent on just how wrong the documentary had been. He had stopped mid sentence and took in her position and shook his head.

“Fine, you win.” He said with a roll of his eyes.

She began laughing away at his reaction and her laughter grew at seeing the slightest pout form on his lips. Damon was the one that usually won bets against a lot of people. But when it came to Y/N, she somehow won them. Even when her odds were against her.

The group used to say that was her supernatural ability. To be able to make bets go in her favor. But Y/N was as ordinary as they came. She wasn’t a relative of anyone special, she wasn’t descended from any kind of witch coven or royalty. She was as human as they came and she preferred that.

The moment the laughter died down, Damon watched her for a moment. “Want to talk about it?” He asked, keeping his attention on her.

His words hadn’t caught her off guard. She had been expecting them from the moment he had shown up at her door. But even then, her face fell and she looked away from him as she thought about it.

She may not have been bitter, but Y/N had gone through a bad heartbreak almost a year ago. One that left her broken in a way she’d never believed she would ever feel. That had been before she met the Salvatores and found out about the world she now lived in. While her friends had known about it, they always tried to get her back on the horse. But she never had been ready to do it.

“I don’t think I am.” She said with a shake of her head. “One day I’ll be able to talk about it without reliving it.” Even as she spoke of it now, she felt an emotion bubbling within her. “That time is just not right now.”

Damon laid back on the bed so that he was leveled with her. “You know I could always make him some serial killer’s next victim.”

Y/N chuckled and shook her head. “I think that would complete your previous offers of compelling, eating him and ripping his heart out.”

He smirked. “Just say the word, point me in the right direction and it’s done. No questions asked.”

“I’m surprised someone hasn’t done it already.” Knowing her friends, she was expecting it. Especially with the way everyone went behind each other’s backs from time to time to make sure they were safe.

“Oh, we’ve been tempted.” He said with a nod. “Okay, mostly me, but that’s because I'm impulsive and usually don’t care what other people say.”

“What stopped you this time?” She asked, curious. As Damon had said, he did things without thinking. And the fact that he had thought about doing so from time to time and not actually doing it had surprised Y/N.

“Because, believe it or not, while I’m impulsive and do things behind the backs of the people I care about, I don’t think I’d be able to handle your reaction afterwards.” He nodded his head. “I can handle everyone else being angry with me, or even hating me for a period of time, but I don’t think I could handle it coming from you.”

Y/n nodded her head as she took in his words. “I don’t think I could hate you, Damon. You could go out there and kill him tonight without me knowing and I still wouldn’t hate you for it. I’d probably thank you in the morning once I found out.”

“Well,” He said with a smirk pulling at his lips. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard someone be okay with murder.”

She chuckled as she pointed towards the still playing documentary. “It would be interesting to see what details they’d get wrong when you’re the culprit.”

While she may have been only slightly joking, the whole conversation had distracted her from the hurt that she had been secretly hiding from the others. Planning out a revenge with a vampire was the last thing she had been expecting to do tonight. But the way it happened showed she was getting better.

Because creating a hypothetical murder scene with a vampire is just the next step of the healing process.

Always and Forever Tags:

@taylordrunkonwhiskey @thewolf-and-thesheep @wayward-dan @neeadinghugs @fafulous @kenmen02 @elizamonet @dora-the-grownup @mschellehitt @xanderling @fandom-princess-forevermore @buckysarm4 @hi-my-name-is-riley @helenasingers @mrs-jackson-kenner @hellotvshowtrash @dpaccione @dumble-daddy @theactressstaringinyourbaddream @maldita-world @nikmikaelsonswife @mikaelson-emma @elijahs-wife @moon-child-writer @xoxo-nikki-xoxo @njeancastro316

#the originals #the vampire diaries #damon salvatore #damon salvatore fanfiction #damon Salvatore x reader #reader insert #fluff week #Damon Salvatore fics #Damon Salvatore one shot #is this even fluff?#Y'all I'm gonna admit that im having trouble writing this week #Dom does fluff #we'll see how the day goes

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cheelduh · 3 years

Text

How to bet your way into someone’s heart. (Highschool AU)

Pairing: Childe x fem!reader

Warnings: Fake weed. Poor Signora smh. Oh yes, lots of swearing. UNEDITED ASF IM LAZY BYE.

Synopsis: Childe is being an infatuated idiot, Lisa has eyes for vending machine chocolate, and Kaeya is desperately in need of a pencil. With all these distractions, there’s no way in hell you’ll be able focus on the task at hand.

This is crack.

I don’t have time.

You think as you race down the hallway, shoes slapping against the floor as you expertly dodge multiple students in your way.

Bullet. You're as fast as a bullet, because everyone around you is a blur and you don't stop, can't stop, not until you meet your target.

It's funny how one can accomplish many challenges and feats they were unable to, merely due to pressure. Pressure is a twisted ugly thing that can gnaw its way into the pit of your stomach and grow like a parasite. Pressure is a parasite that can either bring the best in you, or the worst, but at the cost of one's peace of mind.

"Move it Signora!" You shouted a warning at the senior blocking your way. There wasn't any time for you slow down at that point, and you'd risk bumping into the breakfast club's stall if you swerved to the side, sending juice flying everywhere.

Signora's eyes widened momentarily, getting the gist albeit her anger, and choosing to back up flatly against the locker.

Her lipstick nearly slips from her fingers as you swerve past, a thick gust of wind in your wake.

It messes with the hair she woke up two hours early for.

Signora plots her revenge. You still don't have time.

You nearly kick the door to your home room down, but you can't risk the perfect image your teachers have of you. So you pat down your t-shirt, take five tempting deep breaths, and tentatively knock the door.

The door opens and you're met with a young man, familiar amber pupils welcoming you.

You try not to huff and puff at the cost of your stamina. Thinking back, there's no way in hell you could have physically been that fast.

"Good morning Y/N," Your homeroom teacher gives you a small smile, moving aside to let you in. "Class is just about to start."

You check your watch, then turn to him with an apologetic tone, trying not to crack under the eyes of your classmates. "I'm so sorry Mr.Zhongli, I slept through my alarm."

Your idiot ass forgot to set one because you studied till four in the morning.

"You're like thirty seconds late, cut the shit." Beidou boos from the back, causing your stance to stiffen.

"I don't wanna hear it Beidou. If anything, you're two periods earlier than usual." Ningguang calls her out for you, but you have a feeling it's more so on behalf of a personal vendetta.

Ignoring the two bickering, Mr.Zhongli gives you the handout. "Take a seat. Do not fret over such minuscule things dear."

Relief washes over you. Your impeccable attendance is not on the line.

Childe tries to flag you down next to him but you send him a pointed glare and sit next to Lisa instead.

"You should give him a chance you know." Lisa doesn't even have to open her eyes to know what's going on.

"Please," You scoff, digging through your bags to collect your notes. "As if I have the time to fool around with a shady kid like him."

Your friend sighs in disapproval, and makes no move to take out her own notes as Mr.Zhongli begins the lecture on the Archon war.

"You should really pay attention." It bothers you that she doesn't, but then again it's not your place to tell her what to do or not to do.

"I don't need to." She yawns, blinking an eye open towards you. "I have you after all."

"I'm tired of saving your ass." You groan and pull a pen out of your pocket to get started on the exercises as Mr.Zhongli talks in the background.

The course outline contained all the topic, and you made sure to teach yourself as much as you could before class to stay ahead.

Immersed in the worksheet, you blinked away your sleep and tried to answer as many questions as you could at the moment. You didn't hear the slight shift next to you, and the change of breathing, or the rate of which time went by.

A familiar scent makes its way into your nostrils.

"Lisa. Why do you smell like mango juul juice." You know the scent from when Signora blew a mango flavoured fog in your face yesterday at lunch when you said you were hungry.

A chuckle erupts and you freeze in place. "That's because I'm not Lisa."

You blink. Once, twice, and then crane your head to the side to meet a pair of teasing cerulean eyes.

Fingers loosening in shock, the pen drops on the desk with a short thud.

You whisk your head towards the front of the classroom, and Mr.Zhongli is nowhere to be seen.

"There's no saving you now." Childe's smirk widens, and he scoots closer to you. "Mr.Zhongli had to get something from the staff room. The staff room is near the cafeteria."

"Which is also near the merch stall." You grumbled, bringing both hands to massage your temples as a headache is beginning it's reign.

"Tsk tsk. Smart girl. I'd like to add that he's forgotten his wallet in his office as well, which is in the south wing."

"Son of a..." You mutter underneath your breath, and opt to scoot further back, but your efforts are futile because your desk is in a corner.

Your next beacon of hope is Lisa, so you scan the room full of chattering students, only to find her pestering her crush, Jean.

Shit...there's nothing getting you out of this one.

"What did it take?" Is your only question, the despair starting to brew. How much did it take for your best friend to betray you?

"A dollar and fifty for vending machine chocolate."

You take a moment to breathe, calming your nerves and burying down the urge to screech. "What will it take?"

"For what?" Childe replies back innocently, and you can't believe how fast he can change masks. You almost give in.

"For you to leave me alone."

"Aww come on girlie," He whines, closing in the distance. "Don't be so cold."

What did your mom tell you that one time? Oh yes. That if you were ever backed against a wall, then just break the damn thing down.

Too bad it's figurative. You're just about ready to sock him in the face if you didn't know he was into that sort of thing.

"I'm serious about you," He says, and it sounds so real, so genuine, nearly makes you sputter. "See? I've even bought school supplies.

He unzips his light backback and spills the contents on the table.

A lone piece of paper flies out, a lighter, and a mechanical pencil with no lead that follows straight after. There's also a pocket knife that you choose to ignore.

You're not the least bit surprised.

"First of all, how the fuck are you passing this class. Second, do you really think I'm into nerds?"

"Well, considering that you are a nerd—"

"You're making things worse."

"My bad, my bad." He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "But on a serious note. I'll do anything."

You cross your arms. "I'm not just another one of your conquests Childe. It's not like I have the time. There are better things to do."

"You need to relax." He says so simply, with complete disregard as to what you are trying to say.

"I am relaxed." You reply, picking up your pen to continue your work. If he's going to annoy you, then you might as well get shit done while he's at it.

You're not wasting any more time.

"When was the last time you got a full eight hours of sleep?" His voice is soft, too soft, and it's not at all like the Childe you know.

Your pen stops momentarily, but you will yourself to continue writing. The words look fumbled, but you don't care. The best thing to do is get your work done and ignore the idiot next to you.

"C'mon, Zhongli won't be back for another half an hour at least. Let's go." He kicks the bottom of your chair to urge you.

The pen shakes in your hand, and you narrow your eyes at the paper, digging holes into poor question eight. "I'm trying to work here. Let me work." You'll say anything to get him off your back.

"Fine fine fine..." He raises both hands in mock surrender. "I'll stop bothering you."

Your ears perk up at that, and you turn to him so fast he has to hold in his laugh. "Really?"

"Yeah," Childe nods along, bringing your hopes up. "If you win a bet, that is." And they're back to ocean level.

You roll your eyes. There's always a catch. That doesn't mean you're any less interested.

"What's the bet?" You ask curiously, all your focus now on him. Just as he longed for from the very start.

He flicks a thumb towards the door, leaning closer to whisper next to your ear. "We bet when Zhongli comes back."

"Are you kidding me?" You aren't bothered at all at the close proximity, mainly because you're too tired and only care about the freedom that will come with your win.

Childe, however, is a completely different story. His heart is beating a thousand times a second, but his face doesn't show it. Not one bit.

Kaeya leans in from the seat behind you two, interested in what's going on. "Ooooh secrets."

"Shut up Kaeya." Childe and you monotonously drone in sync, still having your little staring contest.

The captain of the skating team smiles, about to ask—

"No. We don't have an extra pencil. Even if we did we wouldn't give it to you." Childe finally breaks his gaze to scare off Kaeya.

Kaeya raises a smug brow, and leans back in his chair like the jerkwad he is. "Then don't let me keep you two love birds."

That's all it takes for him to earn Childe's unwavering respect and loyalty for as long as he lives.

After the two are done creating an elaborate handshake as a mark of their newfound friendship, you decide to just forget about the handout. It's not like you're getting anything done anyways.

"Anyways, back to the bet." Childe says, resting his cheek on his fist as he stares at you dreamily. You try not to break under his gaze.

"If I win, you have to go on a date with me."

"No way in hell—"

"Then I'll bother you for the rest of highschool."

Highschool is eternity. You don't want to live through an eternity of this.

"Fine." You answer, and for the first time he sees genuine fear in your face, it makes him waver slightly. Not enough for him to pity you.

"If I win..." You trail, thinking loud and clear as you ignore the excited chatter of your classmates. "I want you to pay attention to class."

"What?" He exclaims incredulously, blinking in disbelief. "I thought you'd get me to stop talking to you altogether."

"If you're paying attention in class, you don't bother me as much and your grades go up." You grin smartly, and oh archons it livens his entire day up, and it's only nine in the morning.

"You care about my grades?" Childe bites back a smile.

"Not at all." You lie, and quickly look away. Woah the floor tile looking trippy.

He decides it's better to get on with the bet without causing you any more distress. After all, you've given him such cute facial expressions today. He's feeling quite generous.

Pulling out his cracked-as-shit latest model phone, he unlocks it and tinkers with it a bit before turning the screen towards you.

"We'll be using this to time both of our predictions at the same time. Whoever has the closer time to when he finally swings by is the winner." The rules are simply put, no room for error.

You tilt your head in confusion. "Why am I seeing a slime review?"

"SHIT!" Childe fumbles with his phone, aggressively tapping on the screen. He lowers his head and voice as if he's been through fifty consecutive hits in the face. "It's uh, Teucer's account."

"Yeah...okay." Is all you can say.

"Ok what do you bet?" He changes the topic to unfuck the situation.

Putting a finger in your chin, you think for a minute, calculating the average of all the times Mr.Zhongli has left the classroom for a considerable amount of time.

"Fifteen minutes." You're sure of it. It's like clockwork every day.

"Hmm..." Childe crosses his arms, seemingly in deep thought. "Five minutes." He places his bet, and both timers start simultaneously.

Five minutes?! Is he serious?

You laugh inwardly. This challenge is in the bag.

The sense of victory you feel dulls when your ears pick up the echo of footsteps nearing the classroom.. Both your heads snap up to the doors.

There's something scary about Childe once his competitive side comes out. "Looks like I've won." He turns to you, eyes darkening evilly.

"What? There's no way in hell a ginger is right." Your palms are clammed up, eyebrows furrowed in panic. You calculated every single variable, how could this be?

You race to the front, Childe right on your tail as the entire class clamps up. The footsteps get louder, causing even whispers to become total silence.

Then it hits you. The shitty music about getting bitches and bars playing on the other side.

The door is swung open by Childe, and you're face to face with an idiot sophomore with a speaker in his pocket.

Childe’s grin is long gone, and you sigh in relief.

The false alarm encourages the class to return back to their idle chatter.

"Scaramouche?" Childe spits, narrowing his eyes at the unamused boy. "I thought it was Signora's shift today."

By "shift" he means being a complete dickwad and scamming fake weed to students in return for their souls. It only really works on the freshmen.

The only reason the club still runs is because Signora threatened the principal with some sus pictures she snapped of him and his assistant.

"Apparently she had an emergency." Scaramouche explains, lowering the volume on his outdated beats pill. "Something about a hair appointment because she got ran into by a, and I quote "lecherous imbecile.""

You steer clear of the conversation, finding the whiteboard far more fascinating and worth your while.

A loud cough is heard from behind the kid, and you're met with a crestfallen look on your beloved teacher's face.

You go through a whiplash of emotions, becoming completely numb towards your loss.

"They were out of slow cooked bamboo shoot soup." He sighs, handing a stack of papers to Childe, who is wearing the fattest smirk on his face at his victory. "Please hand these out to your classmates Childe, and we will begin shortly."

You check down at the timer despite knowing who’s won. Five minutes and twenty five seconds. Somehow, you don't feel as dejected as you thought you'd feel.

Maybe the date will be fun. Maybe Childe isn't so bad. Maybe...you do have time to indulge in these sort of things. If he’s so hell bent on getting your attention, perhaps it’s possible that you can make some room in your heart for him.

However, all those thoughts fly out the window when Childe hands you the new worksheet.

“I hope you're ready for our date tomorrow. We'll be sparring till sundown, and after you’ll be feeding me with chopsticks." He winks, and it makes your heart flip even though all you want right now is to go to the bathroom and barf your guts out.

Feelings are complicated.

You smile back at him nauseously, tight lipped and all, then you pull out your phone, go on maps, and search for the closest cliffs to jump off of.

After he's done, Childe slouches back in his original seat with a different kind of enthusiasm, and opens up his messages. He texts Zhongli a "thank you <3".

#childe x reader #genshin oneshot #genshin impact oneshot #genshin imagines #childe #tartagila #kaeya alberich #fanfic #genshin impact #genshin tartagalia

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spookybias · 3 years

Text

first time again ‣ [ yang jeongin ] ✧

pairing: yang jeongin x gn! reader

genre: comfort, angst, slice of life

synopsis: an attempt to return a love letter leads to a cycle of all too familiar events.

content: exes to almost lovers again, exes to friends au

warning: reader threatens to kill jeongin twice, insecurities, self-blame

for: @districtninewriters' dear skz, with love event. please be sure to check out all the fics written for this event! everyone in the net worked hard on them :)

word count: 2.4k

note: i want a jeongin :,)

You studied the envelope you were holding, flipping it over a few times in your hands. The quality of the paper was nicer than normal, almost like whatever was inside was more important than just a regular letter. You weren’t expecting anything, let alone anything important or special.

But it was definitely your name on the front.

You took in the minimalistic decoration of the beige envelope, mentally noting the small piece of looseleaf paper that had been torn at an aesthetic angle and taped down. Your name had been written in rainbow calligraphy on top of the looseleaf, a font you immediately recognized because your ex had used it plenty of times when decorating the tags on gift bags and appreciation cards to you. Each letter of your name casually leaked into an ombre of cool shades, and hand drawn sparkles littered the envelope.

You dreaded opening the letter, and wished you could stop feeling as blue as the ink your ex had used to write your name.

You were tempted to toss it in the trash, and bury it under the used romance novels you no longer wanted, but as quick as the urge to scream and throw away everything related to your ex had came, it had left.

Adrenaline coursed through you. Your fingertips were fast at ripping open the packaging, while your brain was hesitant to remember the pretty bleach-haired boy who had stolen your heart and then unintentionally crushed it just awhile ago.

Your ex's words were written on skyline stationary. Red and blue stripes twirled along the edges of the paper and a stamp of a smiley face followed by squiggly lines appeared at the top right corner. You were too scared to skim over a single paragraph. So you stood there, staring at the greeting instead.

I know this is sudden, ____.

Four minutes passed. And then you began to read.

You declined your group of friends' invitation to walk to the local bakery and then home with them after school. You had been holding in an immense amount of anger for your ex since you had read his letter to you last night. The letter could've easily been thrown in the trash after reading, but you couldn't help but become entangled in the words he spewed out into sentences.

It's not fair, You thought to yourself as you stomped up the stairs to the platform of the train station. It's not fair that he gets to remind me of everything and I don't get to say anything back to him. It's not fair that I have to think about why our relationship was so pretty.

"Pretty" is the word everyone used to describe the relationship you had with your ex. The both of you had taken it as a compliment back then, but now you knew why everyone referred to the two of you with such an adjective.

Pretty meant your relationship was attractive, it was pleasing to the eye on the outside, it was held at a fair degree. But what was it like on the inside? It was tame and decent, but complicated. Your ex always questioned what he truly felt for you, and it always made you wonder if you were doing something that made him doubtful.

Things had ended because you didn't want to feel more and more insecure as the days went by. It was fruitless to keep trying. Well, at least, it was to you.

"I'll kill him," you grumbled to yourself. A couple people waiting for the L train gave you a weird look. You tried to ignore their glances and the feeling of wanting to reminisce on the train ride you and your ex always shared before and after school during your relationship.

The two of you lived in the same apartment complex, but nowadays you did your absolute best to avoid him. You could've approached him there, instead, but you were so on edge you felt the need to return the letter before you got home. You had stopped taking the train a long time ago, too, desperately trying to avoid him at the train station as well. Now here you were trying to find him.

"I'll kill you!" You practically shouted at your ex. You grabbed him by his shirt collar and yanked him forward. You had forgotten what it had been like to stand so close to him, but you tried to ignore the blush that was pushing its way onto your face and the urge to pull him into a hug.

"What did I do?!" Yang Jeongin looked around awkwardly at the handful of people staring at both of you.

He was unsure of his emotions. One part of him was embarrassed by getting caught up in your sneak attack and the other part of him was happy that you were at least talking to him, even if you had just threatened his life. Jeongin was able to pry your hands -he had noticed how much smaller they were compared to his- off of him. He grabbed your hand and walked you towards an empty section of the platform.

Your heart fluttered, and when you glanced up as he pulled you along, you were seeing your surroundings in a sakura filter.

Jeongin stopped once you were at a spot without anyone around. "I-" He began to say, but you cut him off.

"Get your hands off of me!" You flailed your arms around until he took a step back.

Jeongin held his hands up in surrender. "Before you kill me, please tell me what I did."

"What is this?" You wasted no time in pulling out the crumpled envelope from Jeongin. "You're sending me love notes? After we already ended things?"

Jeongin looked like a deer caught in headlights. "H-how did you get that?"

"Your stupid ass sent it to me!"

"I- I did but-"

"Why?"

"Because I wanted you to know how much you mean to me."

"Well I don't care and I don't want this! I don't want you anymore!" You crumpled the envelope and letter into a ball and threw it at Jeongin's chest. It bounced off, and rolled onto the floor.

"Okay," Jeongin replied, his voice cracking. "You don't have to accept it. It was wrong of me to send you something after we had already broken up." He reached down for the crumpled up paper.

Jeongin held it up, hurt written across his features. The letter seemed to mean a lot to him, and even though he had hurt you in the past, you never wanted to make him feel bad.

You tried to snatch the mess you had made away from him but he held it up.

He furrowed his eyebrows, looking annoyed. "What?"

"Give it back," You told him, trying to reach the crumpled letter.

"You just said you didn't want it." It was unlike Jeongin to raise his voice. "If you don't want it then I'll take it back."

"Why?"

"Because I care about what I wrote in it and I want it!"

"Stop!" You continued your attempt to take it from him.

You and Jeongin fought over the crumpled papers like two nine-year-olds fighting over a toy truck. You were able to get a good grip on his love note. You were holding on to his love and you refused to let it go this time. You lied when you said when you didn't want him, and you yanked the paper towards you. Only it didn't come to you as a whole.

It ripped in half.

"Look what you did," Jeongin said, not realizing the weight of his words.

Look what you did, ____, You scolded yourself. You messed it up again.

That was the last straw. You were tired and frustrated and still heartbroken. You crouched down, head in your hands and tears slipping down your cheeks. You were nothing left but sniffles and sobs and torn pages and haunted by the word, "pretty".

"It's not fair," You choked out. "Why did you do this to me?"

"____," Jeongin had calmed down and reached out to you. "I'm sorry."

"No you're not," You told him. "Why did you send that if you didn't want to be with me anymore? What was the point of reminding me?"

Jeongin took a deep breath, gathering up whatever courage he had left. "Who says I don't want to be with you anymore? That's why I wrote you the letter. I'm just... not sure if you still want to be with me."

You didn't cut him off, so Jeongin took that as a chance to continue.

"I still think about you all the time. I wasn't sure how I felt about you when we were dating because we were both inexperienced and we rushed into things. That's not your fault, so don't think it was. I was the one who immediately said yes when you asked me out. I realized now that I did like you then and I still love you now, but at the time, I didn't know at all how to differentiate romantic feelings from platonic ones. I shouldn't have immediately said yes, I should've waited at least a day to confirm with myself that I did like you. If I hadn't rushed the both of us into something, we wouldn't have broken up. There wouldn't have been doubts or insecurities or anything wrong with us." Jeongin continued to rub your back soothingly. He was relieved that you had stopped shaking. "I'm sorry for hurting you. I'm sorry for making you feel like everything was your fault. And I'm sorry that you received a letter from me, because all it did was make things worse between us."

"Jeongin, I- I still love you too," You managed to get out.

It was in that moment that Jeongin realized he had said that he loves you. He gritted his teeth and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

"But I need more time," You told him.

"I understand that." He nodded his head and gave you a small smile. "But can I walk you home?"

You nodded, and took the hand he offered to help you up off the ground. It felt like the first time again.

Jeongin barged into his younger brother's room. "Were you looking through my stuff?"

"Yes," His brother responded, scribbling into his notebook and ignoring the urge to give his older brother eye contact. "I was helping mom clean in your room."

"Why did ____ receive a letter I wrote ages ago before we broke up?" Jeongin crossed his arms, demanding an answer.

Jeongin's little brother blinked twice before turning to him shocked. "You wrote that before you guys broke up? It looked recent so mom sent me to the mailbox to drop it off."

"Well thank you for mailing it," Jeongin tried to end the conversation, but his brother pressed on.

"Oh I know why it looked recent," His brother have him a sly smile. "You kept it in good condition since that was the only thing of ____ you had left before they dumped you." Jeongin's little brother chuckled, going back to his notes. Then a thought popped into his mind. "Wait. Why are you thanking me?"

"No reason. Just, thank you," Jeongin told him sincerely. "Now stop touching other people's mail."

"Hey, what?" The younger was confused. "I don't understand you-" But Jeongin was already out of the room and heading back to his.

Jeongin sat at his desk in front of his bedroom window, and looked at his half of the ripped love note. He smiled to himself. He had written the letter ages ago and wanted to mail it to you as a cute gesture, but you had broken up with him the day after he had written it, and demanded all of your stuff back.

Jeongin held up his half, analyzing the piece of paper. He had the ending of the letter.

The boy caught sight of you at your bedroom window, staring from across the complex. You held up your half and smiled at him.

You had the start of the letter.

( THE LETTER )

I know this is sudden, ____.

But I wanted to send this to you because you mean a lot to me, more than I initially thought. I just want to talk to you all the time, and thinking about you puts the biggest smile on my face. I want to send you letters like this every week. No, everyday. And I want to fill your mailbox up with love notes and other things I hope you'll find adorable and wholesome so that when you go outside to open it, it explodes in an endless supply of my affection and my words kind of just fall around you. And you can think, "Wow, Jeongin really likes me. He likes me." Because I do like you.

Okay. That was pretty cheesy of me. It's only the truth, though. I have real romantic feelings for you, and I've been thinking about how much I like you for awhile now.

I remember when you stomped up the steps to the platform of the L train just a few months ago. You looked pissed and about ready to kill me. I won't lie to you, I was fearing for my life and I thought, "This is it. This is how I go. At the hands of a beautiful human." But you didn't kill me. You grabbed me by my shirt collar and you gave me a quick kiss and said, "I like your stupid ass." Not the most romantic confession, but it's the only confession I've ever gotten. It's the only confession I want and need.

And I remember you tripping and falling right after. I wanted to carry your bookbag for you, but you wouldn't let me. We kept asking each other why. "Why can't I carry it?" I asked, "Why do you want to carry it?" You asked. "Because I want to," I would say and then you would yell at me and tell me to give your bookbag back. We looked like ten-year-olds.

The train had pulled in and you tried to grab my hand and lead me inside, but you tripped over my foot and fell down instead. You fell so hard you started crying and I panicked inside. But when I rubbed your back and asked if you were okay, you said you were upset that you made me miss the train. I offered you my hand and you took, and now, I want to hold your hand forever.

So yeah, I like you a lot. I'm sorry it took so long for me to say it. I can't wait to see where we go from here.

With love, Jeongin.

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vasiktomis · 3 years

Text

Pomegranate, Chapter 17: Quiet Earth, Part I.

John Seed x Female Deputy

Rating: Explicit.

Read it on Ao3 here!

Notes: Thanks all who have been keeping up with this! I'm so consistently floored by the amount of content creators we have in this fandom corner and the sheer level of workmanship that exists here. This is the first chapter of Pom that I'll be posting to tumblr, and I'm hoping to draw up a little sketch with each update. If you have any suggestions, I'd love to hear them! Big thank you to @shallow-gravy and @consumedkings as always for dealing with my stupidity and being a pair of top-notch angels, and also just like, everybody who takes time out of their day to engage with this? Y'all really sticking with ultra slow burn and I swear after some wicked angst in the next couple of chapters I'll finally be able to throw some well-deserved smut at you. WARNINGS: Forced conversion, descriptions of dissociation and derealisation, explicit language, sexual content, depictions of violence, guns, blood and gore. Canon-typical debauchery.

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“Don’t touch him!”

Mary May lunged with enough force for John to feel the wake of air sweep through him, even with how quickly she was snatched up and yanked back to her place. The soles of her tennis shoes squeaked against the floor as she was dragged to the far side of the room, unable to be trusted with providing audience to Nick’s Atonement.

A shame, really. It was nicer as a shared experience.

The Baptist rolled his jaw, off-setting some of the tension arising from the shrieks that the blonde flung at the back of his head. He righted himself, taking the tattoo gun from one of his faithful with a gracious nod, and turned his attention down to the pilot currently pinned to the floor. Without a word, he sank to his knees, straddling the man, keeping silent as he could just to listen out for any change in his demeanour. Fear. Grief. Defeat. Acceptance. A sign to prove his readiness.

Nick didn't flinch, breathing hard through his nose and watching with hateful eyes. John hovered an indicating hand over the man’s bare chest, bruised from the fight he’d put up against his capture, mentally mapping out placement. Then, he came in with the needle, beginning with the stem of an ’E’, right in the centre of Nick's sternum.

The pilot snorted, masking discomfort with indifference, turning a wince into a scoff. “Figures you don’t use stencils. I ain’t got a hope in hell of this turning out good, do I.”

That casual old Nick attitude. He missed it.

If only he’d let him do this 5 years ago. He wouldn’t have had to miss it.

John feigned offense. “Oh I’m sorry, Nick. Did you want me to do the rest in cursive? Add a feather? Infinity symbol?”

“For fuck’s sake-”

“Talk about tonal dissonance. It’s not meant to be pretty.” He grumbled. “Might’ve gotten a little more practice if you’d-”

A yell from the rear entryway pulled John’s hand away from his canvas. More squeaking. More interruption. Jerome Jeffries getting hauled into the church, held under each arm by the pair of Chosen that John had sent looking for him.

The Baptist cast a look over his shoulder at them, content with the sight of Jerome adequately beaten and bloodied. “Ahh. Pastor. Try to run and hide? It’s no wonder your flock ran astray with a shepherd so quick to leave them to the wolves.”

Jerome ignored him. No reply. No eye contact. A crime John noted to make worthy of capital punishment in the New Eden. The Pastor was set down beside Mary May, who immediately began seeing to his injuries. Murmuring bubbled between them.

“Did you reach them?” The bartender asked. Must’ve been a negative, because the next thing she did was curse.

“The Deputy was calling when they caught me.”

And if she had half the spine to come and broker an agreement for her friends, she’d be inbound.

“Could you at least gag them? I’m trying to concentrate.” John ordered no one in particular, earning another scoff from Nick. “The faster we work, the less we’ll have to get through once she arrives. The quicker we can be out of this heinous town.”

“Stay away from her, shitbag.” The pilot ground out, this time unable to save face when John retaliated, pressing the gun just a little too hard, digging down through an extra few layers of skin.

“Nick Rye, you’re a married man.” John tutted playfully, resuming his work. “That sin of yours again. Take, take, take. Didn’t think the Deputy to be your type. Wouldn’t say you’re hers, either.”

Nick looked downright disgusted at the prospect. Less concerned for the state of his wife - which meant she'd been a likely getaway. “Always been so fuckin’ jealous.”

“Come again?”

“Think folks are stupid? Think I don’t know you?”

“You don't know me, period.” John bit back, skin on the back of his neck flushing between boiling and freezing.

“Anyone else givin’ you this much trouble’d be long dead by now. That shit on the radio? Reckon you’d be talkin’ like that if your family could hear you across the river?” Nick continued, averting his gaze when John shot him a particularly poisonous look. He didn’t, however, find it necessary to respond to such a veiled accusation.

At least until -

“Everybody knows you wanna stick it to her, John-”

As if he’d been awaiting the chance, John’s free hand shot to Nick’s jaw, aching in protest when he squeezed, not stopping until he could feel the man’s molars beneath his flesh. “That’s about enough from you.” He crooned.

John had his desires, yes. He’d accepted that much. Had he not been sworn to celibacy, he might have jumped at the opportunity to respond to Cora’s advances last night. That said, she was still an outsider, and while her Atonement made the prospect less dicey, he couldn’t consciously consider laying with the woman in real life.

No matter how torturous it had become to gear his thoughts toward anything else.

He could be content with just her company, without making any further advances on her. Last night had simply been a moment of weakness, and he’d prevailed by stepping away.

“If you’ll excuse me.” John switched off the little machine once he’d completed his piece and promptly stood to beckon for replacement parts. Mary May might have gotten away with an allergic reaction last time he’d attempted this, but considering he’d be slicing it out of her within the hour, he couldn’t see any reason for her to be complaining. The bartender had been a thorn in his side from the start. While Nick and his wife had once lent John their...whatever a sinner’s closest equivalent was to friendship, Mary May had always been trouble. Wore her heart on her sleeve and trusted no one she hadn’t grown up around. Bolshie. Almost fucking killed him, once.

John busied himself with needle transfers and a pleasant expression. He could feel the woman’s eyes on him.

Did she think what Nick proclaimed? That complete and utter lie?

How fucking crass. No, he did not want to ’stick it’ to Cora. At least, as far as anyone else was concerned. He was fond of her, and - while yes, he had encountered temptation - if one disregarded the cum-stained, stolen panties in his pocket, and the conjured fantasies, and the purely incidental erection he’d maintained after the Deputy stuck her tongue down his throat last night - there was simply no evidence to suggest to anyone else that he was even remotely tempted to break the rules.

Sex was the furthest thing from his mind. It was mere coincidence that today had just so happened to fall on a morning in which he’d needed to trim.

…

If, however, she were to decide that she wanted to continue what she’d attempted last night, then surely he couldn’t be to blame if he only failed to stop her. It wasn’t technically fornication if he didn’t initiate it. Nor was it considered intercourse if -

“Brother John.”

John jumped, heart stopping, whipping his head around to the Chosen standing at the door of the church.

“What?" He asked thickly.

“The Deputy’s arrived.”

Right on cue, the crackling of gunshots drifted in alongside the Chosen’s announcement.

“Tell everyone to hold their fire.” John ordered. “We have them outnumbered tenfold. The Deputy can’t be stupid enough to create a hostage situation. Direct her here, and peacefully.”

The Chosen’s throat bobbed, swallowing back outrage, and John squinted hard at him, trying to dispel the flicker of green light in the mist outside as it settled against the man’s temple.

“John, I don’t think-”

He never got a chance to act on that incoming insubordination.

Instead, he jerked, cut off by a sickening crack as a section of his skull blew out of his head. Red mist and liquified brain matter followed, splattering against the doorframe, and the Chosen slumped lifeless onto the front step.

John wasn’t so much shaken by the killing as he was irritated by everyone else’s apparent refusal to let today go according to plan. Maybe also the pile of brains and hair now sitting on his once-pristine red carpet. He’d made this easy for the woman: kill everyone he could round up, leave her with no one to claim duty to, and get this all over and done with. Have her home by mid-afternoon. Embark on a new chapter and achieve salvation. It was that simple.

Woe to him for trusting in her common sense.

“Fuck’s sake. Wrath begets more wrath.” He muttered, smoothing a hand over his chin. He didn’t have the patience for this any longer. “Fine. Sister -”

A woman stood from the pews as soon as John made eye contact, equally as unshaken by the scene mere feet away.

“Send out word: the Deputy wants to sacrifice her friends for the sake of a fight.” John punctuated the end of his sentence with a click as he returned his focus to jamming the needles into his tattoo gun. “Give her what she wants. Take her by force.”

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The smokescreen was beginning to clear, but despite the weight it was taking off her lungs, Cora would’ve preferred it remain just a little longer. At least until they’d cleared out the town. Had they been quicker, it might have lasted longer. Covered their approach to Fall’s End. Given them more cover to sneak about unseen.

The streets, while still hazy, were visible now. It wasn’t a difficult task watching Peggie silhouettes run from building to building in search of her team. Resistance members and civilians were either in the process of being rounded up, or littered the road and pavement, dead. The Ryes, Mary May, and Pastor Jerome were yet to be seen amongst either group.

Same went for Boomer.

Aside from the barking of orders from Chosen and faithful, there was little sound. Knowing how much of a fuss her dog had put up the last time he’d been caught by the Project struck Cora’s nerves. He was his own alarm, and he would not go peacefully.

Not hearing him was an indication of the worst.

Some part of her brain argued against the idea. Vouching that John wouldn’t have hurt the creature. That was her dog. He had to be an exception to the massacre, no matter how vicious he behaved.

She had to find him, and creeping through the rear entry of the Spread Eagle was the first point of call.

Luckily enough, the back door had yet to be boarded up. Peggies who rushed past covered windows hardly stopped to peek inside the place for fear of being tainted by the presence of alcohol. Sneaking in was simple enough, too, at least once Jess had picked the lock.

“I’m going to pretend that door was open.” The Deputy murmured her equivalent to praise, passing into the building.

Grace headed straight in after her, taking a left to search for any sign of Mary May while she took a right toward the stairs.

“You pretend the Cook’s head was already gone when we found him?” Jess whispered.

“Freak accident. You all saw it.”

“First floor’s clear.” Grace announced from the serving hatch in the kitchen, clearly unhappy about it.

“Right.” Cora acknowledged, “I’ll check up top.”

The second story was as dead-quiet as the first. Furniture had been knocked over in the hallway and bedrooms had been raided. None of it indicated anything good, but she still had to know.

Cora pushed open the door to her room, and while she held no expectation of what she’d find, her heart sank anyway.

It was empty.

Boomer was gone.

Only his makeshift collar and a tattered bandana remained atop the rug he’d been snoozing on that morning.

Her dog.

John had either taken him or killed him, just like the rest. He’d do the same to the rest of her team. She should’ve taken the Baptist’s offer before the latter had even become a possibility.

“No sign?” Grace affirmed once the Deputy slipped back down to the first floor. “My guess is either they’re in hiding, or John’s giving them special treatment. If they were dead he’d be parading them.”

Sharky and Hurk exchanged a frown when Cora offered only a nod, notably more meek than usual.

“Was he in there, darlin’?” Adelaide asked, a little too gently not to invite a sting to her eyes.

Cora felt her jaw clench. It was a different breed of nausea, trying to keep her composure under the scrutiny of the rest of the team. She managed to shake her head, and Adelaide’s hand found her shoulder.

“Could still be with the others, yet.” The woman offered.

“So how do we find them?” Jess asked.

Find John Seed, of course.

“Finding them’s one thing. Getting to them might be the harder part.” Cora began. “The smokescreen’s only getting thinner and there’s Peggies everywhere. It's grasslands from here to the hills. No way we can herd everyone across a field on-foot, safely. We’ve got to make sure they stay freed, first.”

“And?” Jess huffed. “We’re gonna kill some Peggies, right?”

The blonde considered that.

“We split up. Search the buildings for anyone who hasn’t been caught yet. Round them up and plant explosives as we go. With enough chaos, maybe we can have a shot at turning the tide in the short term.”

Sharky was practically trembling. “Explosives, like, everywhere?”

“Everywhere. The more damage, the better.” Cora replied. “Adelaide, Xander, pair up. Sharky and Hurk, same with you.”

“And us on range?” Jess grinned, trading a look with Grace who maintained absolute stoicism. “I’m so into that.”

“No.”

…

“Say what?”

“No more ranged attacks. I need you and Grace to head back to the van -”

Jess was advancing on her before she’d even finished her sentence.

“You’re pulling me outta the fight? The fuck gives?” The huntress loomed over the Deputy, incredulous. Cora made an effort to stay put, but Jess’s insistence managed to outweigh her stubbornness, forcing the blonde to compromise by leaning as far back as she could without falling.

“We can’t keep running on short-term wins.” Cora insisted. “We have to put our foot down. No more small assaults. No more hoping John gets demoralised enough that he hands himself over.”

Sharky frowned. “What’re you saying?”

She met his gaze, puffing out her chest, retaking her space. “I’m saying the Henbane Bridge is unmanned right now. If we get word to the County Jail, there’s no roadblock to stop them from helping us win this. John Seed’s throwing everything he can at us. I say we try for the same. I say we end it for good. We’re gonna take back Holland Valley. Today.”

“...You really like that dog, huh.”

“That too.”

Jess looked unconvinced. “So the two of us are running errands while the rest of you are holding the fort? Fucking bullshit.”

“I told you. No more range.” Cora bit back, jabbing a thumb toward Hurk and Sharky. “You’d rather send Boshaws and Drubmans to convince Tracey to send us her best people? No offence.”

“None taken, bitch.” Adelaide grumbled.

Grace exhaled, throwing away momentary hesitation. “We’ll be fast.”

Cora traded a nod with the sniper before looking to Jess once more.

Still unconvinced.

“They have cars with guns on them, remember?”

The corner of Jess’s mouth ticked. Temptation.

Mission accomplished.

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The tacky fucking carpet was the first thing she noticed, creeping along Main Street. Bliss petals had been sprinkled all over the road leading up to the church.

The carpet ended at the door. An invitation if she ever saw one. Boastful. Arrogant.

A pang of dread ached through Cora's bones, holding her in place while she drew her revolver. It could be an ambush. It probably was an ambush, but there was nothing she could feasibly do to avoid it. If the others were in there, then she couldn't wait around any longer.

She had to do this. At least hold out until Jess and Grace returned, with or without help.

She'd been running for long enough. All other options had been exhausted. At least John offered the least awful defeat.

Drawing close to the entrance, the Deputy pointedly avoided examining a dead crow that had been impaled upon the wall. She inhaled, holding the breath in her lungs, steadying her heart rate.

It was only freedom.

She opened the door, immediately training the gun out before her, following its guide into the room.

About a dozen Peggies dotted the space, leaning against walls, lining the pews - all angled at the pulpit, observing Nick on the floor. He stifled a cry while John sliced through the final remaining layers of skin binding the tattoo to his chest, peeling the word 'GREED' out of his flesh. Blood pooled on the floor around them, and the moment John had stepped away, the pilot was descended on with antiseptic and bandages.

The Deputy waited for nausea at the sight to take its course. It never did. She was all but numbed to the sight.

"Deputy, run!"

Mary May's voice cut through the silence, and the bartender lurched from her own spot on the ground. Guns raised all around the room, swinging around to aim for Cora.

”Hold!” John barked immediately, unconcerned when the Deputy shifted her aim to him. Instead, he busied himself with washing his sullied hands. “Hold your fire.”

His followers obeyed.

Cora, meanwhile, cocked the revolver in her grip. One foot edged into the room, and she glanced around for the Project’s captives before returning her gaze to John. All on the other side of the room. Pinned. Fuck.

“Hope County Sheriff’s Department.” She announced, staring the Baptist down, ignoring the grin that crept onto his face - like he found it fucking funny. “Weapons on the ground. Step away from the hostages.”

“Hostages?” John snorted. He gestured Pastor Jerome, Mary May, and Nick. “These are guests! This is their Atonement. This is your Atonement.”

“Drop the fucking weapons.”

John’s patience thinned. Quickly. “I’m not doing this with you.” He replied simply. “Not today.”

With his own look around the room, John inclined his head. An unspoken order to which everyone carrying a gun turned them on her allies.

“We both know you don’t have enough bullets for everyone. Nor do you have the time. So why don’t you put down my gun and surrender.”

“Don’t-” Mary May was cut off with the tap of steel against her temple. Warning.

John was right. She was outnumbered. There was no chance of getting any of them out with force alone.

She inhaled. Exhaled. Watched the fondness slip back onto John’s face like it had never left, and set the gun on the floor.

“That’s my girl.” John murmured. Then, he motioned. “Get her ready.”

Cora’s stomach dropped as two sets of arms coiled around hers, each pulling and pushing, prickling at her skin with unfamiliar, sickening touch. Biology told her to resist. Escape the sensation. The downward pulling.

“No, stop it.” Escaped her while she squirmed. “Get off. Stop touching me-”

“Her friends can’t be far. Find them.” The Baptist ordered, turning away toward the pulpit.

Cora’s knees hit the floor. There was no holding the repetition of protests, but even as she consciously elevated the volume of her voice, it grew quieter in her ears. Calculated attempts to jerk away and make an escape became automatic twitches.

One of John’s followers - a female - crept into view, fingers tugging at the top button on her uniform collar. John readied a tattoo gun over the woman’s shoulder, and the Deputy’s mind screamed alarm bells. Get out. Escape. Fight back. Regain control.

“I won’t hurt you, sister.”

This time, she sank, curling forward, angling herself away from the woman. Another attempt, and she wrenched away again, snarling. Then, the Peggies around her must have gotten tired of all the fuss, because the tear of cotton clawed at her ears. Ringing through her brain.

Her back felt cold all of a sudden.

Green material slipped down her arms, and at the sight of her own uniform pooling in shreds in her own lap, Cora ceased her thrashing. The shredded shirt was yanked from her belt and tossed aside, and she watched with growing resignation while John turned back around.

His gaze found hers. Then flickered downward, first to the compression bra, then a margin to the right. “Here I thought you’d be unmarked.” He commented, inspecting what was visible of the old ink on her lower ribs while he approached.

Hands pressed against Cora’s shoulders, and she drifted back until her shoulder blades hit the floor.

John continued to loom until he stood directly over her. He sank to his knees, expression softening with his descent until he was on all fours on top of her. He looked almost adoring, and she hated how it comforted her, just slightly. She hated how the hands had disappeared from her limbs, and yet she still made no further attempt to escape. He had every ounce of power now.

She didn’t know she’d started trembling until his free hand swept over her collarbones, mapping out her chest, calming the gooseflesh beading on her from the chill, or the fright, or perhaps just that this whole thing felt so humiliatingly exposing.

A blush swelled over John’s throat, maybe indicating some straying line of thought. He snapped out of it and settled to sit on her hips. “This looks familiar, doesn’t it?” He teased, hovering the tattoo gun right over the centre of her sternum.

“Dont.” Was all she could manage. Weak. Pleading. “I don’t want you to.”

“You have no idea how good you’re going to feel after this.” John cooed.

One of his fingers drifted along her jaw. An attempt at comforting her, but to no avail. He looked equal parts gentle and feral with excitement.

The machine buzzed, lowering pitch when the needles finally pressed into her flesh.

This was it.

She’d lost. There was no going back, anymore. No more normal, no more ridding herself of this family. They’d taken everything, and now they were claiming ownership over her, too.

The others were being hunted. It was only a matter of time. John was working too quickly. They’d be gone before the Cougars even crossed the river.

Cora’s nerves muted. Sound closed to just the rumble of blood in her ears. She receded into herself. Found a backseat in her mind, away from the sensory overload and the humiliation and her own failure while her body quietly continued: ”Dont, don’t, stop.”

She’d lost, and John wouldn’t stop. Not while he was branding the evidence of his victory into her flesh.

Defeat tasted worse than anticipated.

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Bullets whizzed overhead while Sharky and Hurk took cover beneath the window, watching helplessly as the aisle of potato chips and bar nuts was torn to shreds by the onslaught. Dorito dust filled the shop like mustard gas.

“Cuz, I think they found us!” Hurk barked, snapping an arm over his head in defence when a stray round ricocheted off the front counter.

“What gives you that impression?” Sharky hit back, hurriedly setting down his shotgun and shrugging his backpack to the floor.

“How many are there?”

“How about you check?”

A moment of quiet occurred while the cousins glared at each other, leaving their standoff to a battle of no blinking. Then the Peggies outside must’ve finished re-loading, because the back wall of the shop was suddenly being shot into swiss cheese.

They were okay. Everything was cool. Addie and Xander had taken their share of explosives and gone the quiet route. Grace and Jess were gone. Shorty had disappeared into the church, and while he couldn't count the best, Sharky was pretty confident that John had caught her.

Could they have kept on looking for survivors and breaking out captives? Sure - but why do that when they could kill, like 40 birds with one stone and beeline for the gas station? It was conveniently across the road from the church, empty of any and all life barring the dormant tanks underground. An explosion that big was sure to fuck up like a good portion of Main Street. Not even the Chosen would be able to resist checking it out.

Disconnecting the safety switches had been easy. He’d been arrested for doing it like 5 times already. Cops, Peggies; it didn’t matter - Sharky knew what he was doing, and without the giant swinging dick of the law hanging over him, the man was on a mission. Cultists shooting at him was fine. He was used to that.

Threat of death or no, he wasn’t giving up the chance to see this place blow sky high.

“We’ll be outta here any second, Hurky.” Sharky assured. “Just gotta sprinkle a little C-4 around the place and we’ll be gone before it even goes off.”

Hurk was sweating. A lot. He was accustomed to being shot at, but normally, he had more than just Sharky to get him out of a tight spot. “Alright, bro. Gimme some. Many hands and what have you.”

“Fuck yeah. First step, toss some at the tanker outside. We wanna get the place as fiery as possible up here to wake up the big boys underground, and-”

Sharky stopped in his tracks, eyeing the backpack he’d just been in the process of unzipping.

“-uhh.”

“Uhh?”

“Hurky, can I be real with you?”

“Is now the best time for a deep and meaningful?” Hurk hissed, crawling toward him nonetheless.

The arsonist stuck his hand down the pack, rifling through fluff and mesh. “I, uh, I think I brought the wrong bag. And by think I mean know without a shadow of a doubt.”

Hurk watched as his cousin tugged the green, furry headpiece of a dragon out into the open.

“You brought-...”

“I brought my fursuit.”

“Not the C-4?”

“Not the C-4.”

“Okay, bro. That's fine. I'm not mad. Human error. Not even a little bit?”

Sharky checked again, just for good measure. “Nope...so, uhm...you got a match?”

Hurk ran a hank through his hair. “Not to poo poo your ideas, but that probably ain’t the best move.”

So just like that, they were fucked.

Jess and Grace still hadn’t come back. The others were nowhere to be seen. Shorty was holed up in that church, and he and Hurk were about to be rounded up by born-again virgins.

Shit, if that were the case -

“Well, if this is gonna be the last opportunity.” Sharky grunted, tugging the suit out and unzipping the back. “May as well enjoy our last minutes of freedom, huh?”

Hurk took the cue, creeping across the destroyed shop floor and reaching for a popped bag of pretzels. He sat back against the wall, leaning against the rocket launcher he’d propped up against the corner.

“Man.” The brunette sighed, staring at the floor. “If only we had some other kind of ranged, explosive device.”

“No shit.” Sharky agreed. “Some high velocity shit would fix this.”

They exchanged a sympathetic look once the arsonist had zipped himself up and crept over and sit beside his cousin, both leaning on either side of the RPG.

Hurk held out the bag.

“Pretzel?”

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“Was that so bad?” John asked, placing the tattoo gun aside and framing the Deputy’s marked chest. ’WRATH', in true black, beading with blood. The skin surrounding the text was mottled and inflamed. Excess ink covered the area in patches, gathering in the dip of her cleavage, disappearing beneath her sports bra.

All that sin, already leaking out through the exit he’d made for her.

Gorgeous.

Cora didn’t respond. That was fine. Shock was normal. She’d thank him once this was all over. For now, she just trembled, lock jawed, dissociated gaze searching what John had thought was him until he sat up. No, instead she was watching the ceiling.

John flashed a smile, blocking out a tiny streak of dread at the sight of the woman so vacant. Sweeping a lock of stained hair over her shoulder, he smoothed his fingers past her neck, attempting to gently angle her focus back to him. “Hey. You can come back now. We’re all done.”

You're finally on the other side. React to it. React to me. Look at me-

The boom came first, hollow and deep, and John felt the floor beneath him rumble. Chandeliers and decorations wobbled from the disturbance. Several of his followers shot from their seats, immediately abandoning the Resistance leaders they’d guarded in favour of pacing back and forth, trying to get a look at whatever was happening outside.

“Is this it?”

“Is it the Collapse?”

“It’s time?”

“John, is it the Collapse?”

The panic escalated quickly, forcing the Baptist to break his attention away from the empty woman below him and rein in the flock.

“Calm down.” He exclaimed, “It’s not the Collapse. It’s probably just-”

Another boom. Almost deafeningly loud.

This time, the whole church shook. Windows shattered in their creaking panes and smashed to the floor while pews squealed heavily in protest.

Contrary to his assertion, John dove down, covering the Deputy with his body. Holy shit, was it the Collapse?

The tremor must have been enough to snap Cora out of her trance, because a muffled “Get your tits out of my face.” buzzed against John’s chest.

Tragically, however, the Baptist never got the opportunity to reply to her. Had it not been for the fucking tennis shoe colliding with the side of his skull, he imagined he’d have something very clever to say. Alas, pain shot through his head and he jerked to the side, fighting against the blow to stay put. A snarl from Mary May, his apparent attacker, sounded in retaliation. She dove into him, knee driving into his ribs, throwing him off of the Deputy.

His thoughts left him for the briefest moment, overtaken by ensuing gunshots and shouts and the shrieks of the bartender as she was clawed away from him. Her hand shot forward right as she was yanked up, intended as a punch. It didn’t land, and John couldn’t help but shoot her a smirk for her failure.

“Deputy, gun!”

Nevermind. It wasn’t a punch after all. Mary May had been pointing over his shoulder at the revolver that had been surrendered on the floor. His revolver. The same one Cora was now scrambling toward.

No.

John lurched, heart leaping into his throat.

Not now. Not after he’d won. Not when they were so close.

His hand found the leg of Cora’s pants, wrenching, pulling her away from the weapon, and she kicked against him. Her finger tips slid against the barrel of the revolver, tugging it into her palm.

God wouldn’t fucking undo his victory.

John snarled, catching the Deputy’s wrist when she tried to aim - at him no less. Without her own recovery time achieved, he was able to wrestle the weapon from her easily enough, flattening her struggling body beneath his just long enough to hook an arm around her waist. He twisted around, holding the woman’s back against his belly. Her squirming ceased with the press of the muzzle against her head, and the moment her allies had taken notice of the change, everything went still.

Finally.

A little civility.

Several of John’s followers lay on the floor, either dead or close to it. Only a half-dozen remained, though the pair of Chosen had survived and placed themselves closest to their leader.

Pastor Jerome had procured a handgun from within his own bible - something that pulled a breathless laugh out of John as he surveyed the others. Nick hadn’t been able to arm himself, but he’d still tackled one of the faithful to the ground. His knuckles were bloodied. A familiar sight. Mary May had wrestled a gun of her own away from the woman who’d seized her. She aimed it shakily at John.

Armed but outnumbered, outgunned, and now, they were in check.

They never learned, did they?

“The way you people behave, you’d think salvation was a bad thing.” John tittered. “Right. Now, let’s try this again. Atonement, or damnation.” To punctuate his meaning, he tapped the muzzle against Cora’s head. She grunted in protest, and he ignored her. Of course it was a bluff. No one else knew that but him, though. It was too risky a move for the Resistance to let him do away with the one person that banded their factions.

She was their leader. They couldn’t lose her.

John looked around the room once more, locking eyes with Jerome first - then Mary May. “Are we going to behave?”

The answer was immediate and clear: a gunshot cracking through the Baptist’s ears and the flash of a blast spilling from Mary May’s weapon. Cora’s elbow driving into his stomach and the reaction time of his Chosen snapping to attention, covering him, already hauling John out of the church and onto the street.

Fuck no, he wasn't leaving without his prize.

"GRAB HER!" John howled, struggling against the attempts to get him to safety. "Leave the rest!"

It was a reluctant effort, but the Deputy was yanked along as well, shoved into Johns arms on his repeated orders, with me, with me.

“Mary May, what the fuck!” The Deputy roared over her shoulder.

“Sorry Deputy! I missed!”

Missed?

“You sure about that? Jesus fucking Christ!”

More shots sounded, but only the noise pursued them from the building. It wasn’t until John had shoved Cora into the back of the waiting truck that he realised how warm his hand had gotten. Wet, too.

“Get to the ranch!” One of the Chosen snarled up front, casting a look back at the Baptist while the vehicle took off, watching as he peeled away from the blonde to inspect himself.

Blood.

He was bleeding. But where from? Barring the sting of his scabs and that kick to the head, nothing hurt. There were no wounds hiding under his sleeves or -

A hiss sounded from the Deputy beside him, curling in on herself.

Shit.

She hadn’t elbowed him.

“Cora-” John scrambled for her. "Cora, let me see."

“Told you not to call me that.” The Deputy grit out, kicking at him until she’d well and truly jammed herself into the corner of the seat and the car door. Her left hand gripped her right forearm, just below the elbow and to no avail. Crimson coated the skin on her side, encasing her arm completely and seeping through her fingertips.

She was bleeding. Not heavily, but steadily.

”Deputy.” John bit back, advancing. “You’re hurt. Let me help-”

Just like that, the kicking resumed. “Don’t touch me-DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME-”

“For once in your fucking life, just relax!”

Only incomprehensible snarling came in response.

John rolled his jaw, brimming with as much irritation as he was adrenaline. The Resistance had made their choice. Regretful, but final. He’d gotten what he came for, and he wasn’t intending on losing her just because she was too stubborn to accept help.

He glanced at the revolver still in his grip. Then back at Cora, rotating the grip toward her. A threat. “Are you going to let me help, or am I going to have to calm you down?”

“Don’t you dare.” Her words came hoarse. She gave scowling a red hot go, but without the rationale to deny him, the Deputy lacked conviction. She exhaled. “Fuck it. We've done this enough already. You get ten minutes. Then you’re under arrest.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Her cheek twitched. A weak chuckle. The slightest flash of acknowledgement as she let him press his weight over her forearm. Thankfully, the wound wasn’t pulsing; nor was there a puncture wound. A gouged strip had been carved into her flesh where the bullet had grazed, but nothing vital seemed to have been struck.

“That - you can keep saying.”

"You're a flirt when you're in shock, Deputy." Had John not been too busy regulating about a dozen other emotions, he might have flushed at her words. For a moment, he just sat there, basking in the borderline friendliness on her face. Then, it occurred to him that they were among watchful company, and he cleared his throat, returning to his task.

Minutes passed. No more words were exchanged. Not until they’d passed the Rye and Son’s sign.

The Chosen in the front passenger’s seat looked over his shoulder, dismissing another over the radio before regarding the Baptist. “The Resistance isn’t making ground. The faithful are still rounding up stragglers, and we’ve taken casualties, but numbers are looking strong. Medic will meet you at the ranch, John. We can deliver our newest sister to the Gate while you recover.”

John inclined his head. “Much obliged. We need this one to stay with us until she’s completed her vows. She can’t be trusted unsupervised, but I won’t put the responsibility of containing her back on our people again.” He looked to Cora, then. Her face had run pale and she’d gone clammy, but she remained upright. Just...woozy. Pacified, for now.

He’d got what he came for. Fuck the rest.

“I have something to say.” The blonde announced, swaying against John’s arm. “I know why Mary May shot me.”

“This another one of your jokes?” John deadpanned.

“This one’s funny, I swear.”

“...go on, then.”

“It’s because I never tip.”

For a moment, Cora looked very satisfied with herself. Then, she retched, slumping forward into the Baptist’s lap when he instinctually jolted out of the potential line of fire. He hurried to steady her, keeping tight hold over her wound, and grimaced while the noise escaped her a second time.

Thank God nothing came out; his shoes would’ve been the first to know about it.

The Deputy didn’t sit back up.

That was fine. So long as she wasn’t dead. So long as she wasn’t fighting back.

“It’s all the sin escaping you.” John explained, off-handed, when a complaining grunt sounded below. “Evil being expelled from your body. You’ll feel better soon.”

“Pretty sure it’s my blood pressure, actually. Soon as I’m good again, you’re history.”

When one disregarded the fact that she’d had a gun trained on him earlier - and the blood drying uncomfortably on his clothes - and the persistent pounding of a headache from Mary May’s heel, this was almost pleasant. The quiet roads. The Deputy, all but atoned with her head on his thigh. Not fighting back. Conceding defeat. Peaceful.

He got what he came for.

He’d won.

He was saved.

Passing his thumb over Cora’s ribs, John’s attention was pulled back to the old ink peeking out from beneath the band of her top. Text, blurred and flattened enough to be years old, and too obscured to decipher.

“Thought I’d be your first.” The brunette murmured.

“Jealous?”

Yes.

“Don’t be ridiculous. What’s it say?”

“‘The Mountains Are Calling’.”

A sickening wave of dread passed over the Baptist. The rock forming in his throat, icy and bitter and seizing him against any reply.

The mountains are calling.

Jacob. Joseph. The Trials. Atonement wasn’t the final step. Handing her over to his brothers was the final step.

He got what he came for, but the woman in his arms wasn’t the trophy intended for him.

He was saved. He’d redeemed himself. He’d completed his task and Joseph would permit him beyond the gates. That was all he was supposed to do. That was enough.

That had to be enough.

“‘And I Must Go’.” John completed quietly.

Cora tilted her head a little, not quite looking at him - almost like she was trying not to. “You know John Muir.”

“Not enough to warrant a photo on the bedside table.”

“Shut up.”

There was nothing convincing about the chuckle he offered. He was too busy observing her, studying the side of her face. Committing her to memory as if he hadn’t spent years acquainting himself with every spot and micro-expression.

“Maybe working for you will be bearable.” She murmured, and John’s heart only sank further. "If I don't manage to arrest you."

The mountains are calling.

She still had no idea that all the promises he’d made her had been fabricated. That she wouldn’t be staying. That he’d lied to her.

The mountains were calling. In a few days time, she’d know it. She’d despise him. She’d be taken off his hands and he’d assume his regular duties once again.

He’d saved both of them.

Cora’s thumb absently grazed back and forth on his knee. Ignorant. “Can I ask something?”

It took everything in him not to mirror the action against her skin.

“Of course.”

“Can I start next Monday?”

"What happened to you being such a workaholic?"

"To be honest with you, I'm really fucking tired."

She’d be incredible. Jacob would love her. Joseph would be proud. John had accomplished something near-impossible for his family, and even if the Deputy hated him - even if she forgot him entirely, he was content with the knowledge that he’d have brought her to salvation.

Even if they never saw each other again, he’d know that she’d passed through the gates. That she’d climb to the surface once the world had been scorched clean. She’d rebuild, and marry, and have children, and he’d do the same.

Hopeful anticipation and the agony of longing had never felt so similar before.

“Fine.” John smiled, giving in, sliding his fingers up her arm and coaxing a stray lock of hair out of her face. There were no promises he’d be able to do it again after this. “But on one condition.”

“What?”

“Spend those days with me.”

Cora stirred, angling to peer up at him out of the corner of her eye. She smiled crookedly.

“Deal.”

#far cry 5 #john seed #cora stammos #far cry 5 fanfic #far cry 5 oc #john seed x female deputy #all hail cora's big fucking muscles #no beta we die like men

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sweetestlamb · 3 years

Text

Frozen Inside

Summary: You need to remember your place.

Author's note: Chapter 9 is here! Taking a break from these two was pretty hard for me I just love them so much and love writing them in this world I created. As mentioned before this chapter includes a character that someone suggested I use to stir the Junjin pot little, if anyone can guess who this extraordinary character is I will give you a cyber cookie LOL. Just a minor heads up to the person who suggested it, I don’t sympathize with this character as much as others did but I will try to give him some depth and not completely vilify him. But thank you for the suggestion! Hope you all enjoy, writing the ending kinda broke my heart a little so any positive words would be very welcome right now.

The bus ride is far too quick, he’s already loathing the moment when his shoulder will no longer be brushing "accidentally" against hers and he has to suppress a groan when someone rings the bell and he realizes this is their stop. She'd been acting uncharacteristically adorable after his honest statement earlier, running away as soon as the bus arrived as if she'd never gazed upon herself in a reflective surface before. She was beautiful, it wasn't something that was subjective it was just a fact. But once they entered the bus she made her way to a single seater by the window obviously trying to get away from him, he'd easily tugged her away by her backpack forcing her to a double seater in the back instead.

They were sitting together, there were already straying eyes watching her every move. Some from their schools and others just strangers who didn't bother to hide their interest in her, eying her up salaciously and and piquing his desire to throw hands. They were all lucky he had an important date after school, he couldn’t afford to get trouble right now.

She'd glared at him and swung her arms latching on to a metal handle trying to stop him but he was stronger than her, with a huff he pulled her with him and made her sit in the inner seat so he could bracket her in and marginally hide her form from the predatory looks.

Her leg brushed against his before moving away, so quickly he almost thought he imagined the whole thing. But then it happened again. He glanced over discretely at the tail of his eye.

He'd never seen Sujin fidget before. Didn't know her bones were capable of such a function but he had felt her jiggling knee knock into his own and learned that even an ice princess like her got embarrassed. He swallowed the immense pride that erupted at the realization that he was the one making her act this way. Completely out of her character.

"It's our stop." She whispers staring at the floor, eyes refusing to look up.

He's tempted to ignore her and see if that will make her look at him, now that he's been the center of her attention- that hug is burned into his mind- he is greedy for more, her resistance makes him even more desperate.

But he wordlessly stands up instead sliding out of the seat and opening the back door for them, she only pauses minutely before skipping down the stairs and exiting the bus. Her short pleated skirt bounces precariously with every movement and he's temporarily distracted gazing at the smooth expanse of milky skin, why were the school skirts so short anyway? Sujin's barely reached her knee, stopping in the meat of her thigh. Maybe he should start a school petition to get longer skirts for the girls. The boys probably wouldn’t be in agreement though. Perverts.

His stomach clenches at the thought of others staring too, maybe he could at least convince her to tie the sweater around her waist instead of wearing it normally. It was worth a try at least.

"We probably shouldn't walk in together, your fangirls will go cra--"

He interrupts her, not paying at all to what she's suggesting because he has no intentions of separating from her. She's so exhausting with all this push and pull honestly. He already told her that they don't matter.

"Isn't your skirt too short?"

He keeps walking without looking over at her, realizing too late how bold his question is.

He stops when he realizes that she's no longer beside him, twisting left and right before turning around and seeing her a few paces behind. He almost sighs in relief much more familiar with this particular emotion etched on her face, annoyance and mild rage- the patented princess look™️ and he backs up looking at her with a lifted brow, silently questioning her inactivity.

"What did you say to me Han Seojun?" She admonishes staring at him like he's grown another head and she’s ready to decapitate them both, she also steps into his space tilting her angry face to glare directly into his face. She looks prepared to murder him and hide the body.

He's not stupid enough to repeat his gutsy idiotic question, he very much likes his face the way it's currently arranged. He might be stupid but he's not that stupid.

"Me? Nothing. I would never say anything, I don't deserve to speak in your presence." He flutters his eyelashes dramatically, speaking in an exaggerated cute voice and she stares blankly at first. Both of them searching the others face before the tension is snapped like a rubber band and she pushes him in the chest, he almost whines reaching out to grab her wrist before he sees the small smile on her face, its hidden instantly behind the curtain of her hair when she moves away but he sees it and he feels his chest palpitate.

He stands staring in wonder. Lost in her spell.

He's never been a gracious loser but she gives him no chance in the matter.

He stares at her back, cheeks hurting as beams at her bounding off in his sweater. It's hers now he will never be able to wear it again without remembering her in it, it's been ruined in the best possible way.

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

Chorong struggles to carry all the cards he pushes at him, the female population seems to have decided that he was sick and his return results in high pitched screams of his name and a constant stream of food and gifts being shoved in his direction, despite his refusal. He's wandering the halls arm filled with the gifts when he runs into Sujin, her face brightens upon seeing him before she glances down at his arms. The pretty smile is thwarted before it can even comes to full fruition, her eyes turning cold before she stomps past him.

He smirks at her back, chuckling as Chorong stares in confusion before asking, "What's wrong with her?" He shakes his head before handing the bigger boy all the unwanted gifts, her smile was worth more than all of this anyway.

Lunch can't come soon enough and he happily swaggers into the bustling room, oblivious to the amount of hungry eyes that latch onto his form. His own eyes too busy locking on one figure and one figure alone.

The seat across from her is conveniently empty and he laughs into his sleeve when Jukyeong waves him over, smiling with conspiration at him pointing at the empty seat without an ounce of subtlety, giving him a thumbs up. He can't control his laughter when Sujin turns to the girl and to hide her damning thumb the clumsy girl pokes herself in the eye. He definitely owed her now that looked mighty painful.

Suho nods at him as he takes his seat, he returns the gesture. Watching as the usually stoic boy reaches across to comfort his girlfriend, stroking her hair and blowing gently into her teary red eye as she whines loudly.

He opens his backpack taking out the food the girl avoiding him like the plague had given him just this morning. The dumplings are perfect this time she's clearly figured out a technique now, and when he bites into them a delicious umami flavor explodes on his tongue. He groans in pleasure before stuffing another dumpling in his mouth eagerly.

"Wow those look amazing! Did your mom make them?" Su-ah calls across the table and he freezes mid-chew instinctively looking at the real culprit and her eyes are already on him, wide and then pleading. He knows what she's begging from him but he really really wants to disobey and tell everyone that she made them for him. That the same Kang Sujin, who served men roundhouse kicks and resting bitch faces for lunch had made him food and was sitting there eating a lunch he had prepared for her.

It sounds so domestic and he has to bite his tongue to stop himself from doing something she'll regret.

But she's not ready it's too evident and he's not inconsiderate nor selfish. Whatever this is, it's far too new and fragile for him to throw it to the wolves before it's on stable grounding.

"No my mom didn't make it." He answers honestly and he can feel the cold air wafting off Sujin in frigid waves and then he feels a sharp kick to his ankle, he has to grab her feet with his legs to stop her from delivering another blow. He probably shouldn't find her violent tendencies so attractive. He clearly isn't right in the head.

"Someone else made it. Someone special." He continues trying not to wince as she tries to attack him again. Immediately the table erupts into ohs and everyone starts talking at once except her best friends who look on with smirks, Su-ah playfully winking at him.

"Someone special? Who? Who made it? Do you have a girlfriend?"

Sujin spontaneously starts choking on her blueberry milk, the very one he'd packed in her lunch bag this morning the pale blue liquid spilling out the corners of her lips. He passes her a napkin immediately, their fingers brushing as she takes the paper from his grip wiping her face and looking sheepish once she realizes that all eyes are on her now.

"Are you okay?" He asks amused, looking at her with a smile barely hidden. So fucking cute.

"Yeah don't worry about me." She breezily replies struggling to escape from his tight grip under the table, unbeknownst to everyone there. But her cold statement only reminds me of their meeting in the hospital. Her words echoing in his heart, I'm going to worry about you. Who are you to tell me not to? Let me do what I want. Hearing those words made him want to stupidly put himself in more scenarios that would result in her concern, maybe he'd get another hug. Or a even a ki--

"Don't think we forgot! Who made you this food Seojun-ah?" Chorong breaks his concentration and he stares incredulously at the other boy, his words were meant to trick everyone else but his best friend should know who he was referring to; he'd been the one to deliver the food for him after all. Wasn't it clear who he liked? Who might be making him food in return?

He sighs shaking his head, glancing up at Sujin from under his fringe feeling warm all over.

It's hard to tail him without making it too obvious but she tells Jukyeong and Su-ah that she has something to do before running after Seojun at a distance. She misses the knowing look on both of their faces as they watch her conspicuously hide behind a very thin tree. He had offered to wait for her but she didn't need his fanclub seeing them leaving together, they were so possessive of the boy. It didn't matter that he never showed any interest in them they were all still convinced that he belonged to them.

She didn't see him making food for any of them so she didn't know how they reached this asinine conclusion but she'd rather stay off their radar.

"Are you practicing to be a national spy? Why didn't you come when I offered to wait for you?" They are far from the school now, miles but she still looks around nervously before speeding up finally allowing them to walk side by side. He looks over at her fondly, she looks away unable to maintain eye contact when he's acting like this. It doesn't help that she can feel her walls weakening, she was tempted to accept his offer earlier. To walk with him side by side and let everyone see, she was losing her mind.

"I didn't want to be murdered by your girls." She teases, the words fall flat because as soon as she utters them she feels sick to her stomach.

A huge hand suddenly wraps around her wrist halting her, warm even through the stick material of the gifted sweater.

She turns to look at him bewildered, even more so at the hard look on his face. Those exotically sloping eyes even thinner than usual as he pulls her closer. She gulps, hard. Looking at him as his eyes peruse her face slowly, full of dark intention her blood simmers hot under the matching gaze.

"They aren't my girls. You know that." The emphasis and bite on the word makes her uneasy, refusing to think about the implications of his words. A sheen of sweat raises on her back, and she gently tugs her arm away scoffing to tear through the thick cloud of tension that is loitering between them.

"I was just joking. You don't have to be so serious. Let's go." She awkwardly rubs at her wrist before bolting away, scared to continue this line of conversation. Something has changed between them and she has no idea how and if they can go back to the way things were.

A little voice in her head whispers, Is that really what want you?

How is she supposed to know what she wants? Up until this point that has never mattered to anyone, she was just expected to do as she was told. Speak when spoken to. Everything about this is foreign and terrifying. Knowing that he'll be there to catch her if she falls is more nerve wrecking than anything she's faced thus far.

It's better not to think about it especially with where they're going, but thinking about that makes her even more nervous. She fidgets with the sleeve of the huge sweater, tugging at the extra material that folds over her hands. She suddenly realizes that she's completely covered in Seojun, this wasn't her best idea but she can't bring herself to remove the sweater.

She's never felt so warm.

"You can wait inside, I need to get something." He suddenly pats her head ruffling her hair and she reaches up to push his hand away only to be entranced by the grin on his face, has his smile always been that illuminant or is this reserved just for her?

She nods frozen watching him walk further and further away, until he turns a corner and disappears. She takes a deep breath centering herself before, able to breathe easier now without him sucking up all the air with his magnetic energy.

It's weird being back at the hospital especially alone, she hesitates at the entrance before finally entering. She expects trouble at the front desk seeing as how she's not family but the nurses smile at her knowingly.

"You're back. Room 105. Straight down the hall."

She shifts uncomfortably but nods her head in gratitude before walking down the hall. There are a row of free seats and she eases down into one, Seojun still isn't back and she can't very well just go into the room. She's basically a stranger, right?

Luckily she brought along homework, she can put this time to good use and complete some while Seojun gets whatever he needs that so important that he abandoned her all alone.

Minutes trickle by and she gets lost in her history homework highlighting dates and names of Kings, stopping at King Cheoljong when she hears the patter of footsteps and instinctively she glances up meeting huge round bespectacled eyes.

"Unnie! What are doing here?" Gowoon rushes over grabbing her hands, she flinches at the sudden touch on her rough hands and she coughs discretely pulling away, tucking the mutilated appendages away. She smiles disarmingly to ease any offenses that movement might have caused. The younger girl smiles back easily, not commenting at all on the action. She mentally thanks her.

"I heard your mother was hospitalized, I thought it would be okay if I visited her?" She suddenly feels extremely insecure about her presence here. Why had she assumed that she was welcome here after only meeting them once? She was getting too confident and it was a dangerous way to live, it often led to heartache.

Like now, she could pretend that it didn't matter if Seojun's mother didn't want to see her but if she was rejected it would hurt, she was the first maternal figure that had ever shown her any type of authentic kindness. Jukyeong's mom was ardent about regaling how pretty she thought she was but she'd heard that growing up, from her father as he bragged about how many suitors she would have and how resourceful that would be. So the words didn't do much but remind her of that, her supposed beauty had been weaponized long ago. She hated the constant reminder, as if her looks were all she had to offer to the world.

You didn't feel that way when he said it though. You liked it.

She shakes her head clearing away such traitorous thoughts.

"Unnie, of course you're welcome. Mom will be so happy to see you. I just meant why are you out here, come on let's go greet her!"

She barely has a chance to stuff her book back into her bag before the eager girl is yanking her away. She tries to fight the hold but it's useless and with a swipe of her hand Gowoon slides open the door, tugging her into the airy hospital room.

Her heart thunders in her chest.

She wants to disappear.

"Mom we're here!" Gowoon announces happily vibrating with youthful energy. Her eyes are glued to the checkered floor as she bows silently in greeting.

"H-hello again. I don't know if you remember me but I'm--"

"Sujin sweetie! Why are you acting so formal? Come, come. How have you been? Are you eating all your meals?" The older woman bulldozes past her stilted greeting, pointing to an empty chair next to her bed. She swallows before walking over and sitting down. Gowoon ambles over too hopping onto the edge of her mother's bed, immediately launching into a retelling of her day. She listens heart heavy at being so easily invited into such an intimate moment.

"What about you Sujin? How was your day?" She jumps at the inquiry, looking up to see both women watching her avidly waiting for her reply. This feels foreign, nobody has ever asked her about her day before.

"Um...it was okay. I got a 100 on my math test. I'm eating all my meals. I...um I had a good lunch." She stutters out foolishly adding the last line, thankful that Seojun isn't here to hear the praise who knows how he would have behaved? Surely his mother and sister don’t know that he has been making her food so the comment will be harmless.

An easy smile slides across the mother's face, "Is that so? I'm glad you enjoyed your lunch dear. Great job on your test! If only these kids would come home with news like that." She pokes Gowoon in her belly, to which the other girl folds her arm and humphs sticking out her tongue.

"We can't all be Kang Sujin, beautiful and intelligent like I would get that lucky?" She blushes embarrassed at the compliment waving her arm to brush the words away.

"Hey! What are you saying? You're my sister. I have enough of both of those for both of us." A deep voice sounds from the door and she turns to look at the boy, the fragrant scent of flowers filling the room. He crosses the room in long steps depositing them in an empty vase on the windowsill. They are in a perfect position to receive all the sun's magnificent rays.

So that's where he had been.

Gowoon scoffs at him, grumbling about narcissism and big headed boys but she grows silent as Seojun walks over to her.

He hands a smaller bundle to Gowoon, unlike the white lilies in the vase this bouquet is vibrant with hues of vivid blues, purples and fuchsia , it matches the girls personality perfectly and the smile that laces across her pretty face is enough to singlehandedly sustain the flowers.

"You got me flowers too?" Gowoon asks voice full of suspicion as she accepts the flowers, dipping her nose to sniff at them. She hums excitedly clutching them closer to her chest beaming at her brother.

"I was already there. I figured why not?" He tries to downplay the kind act but she catches the slight pink on his high cheekbones.

It's such a wholesome scene. She feels as if she's intruding by simply being there, especially when she sees the serene smile on their mother’s face watching her children, her pride is palpable.

"Thanks oppa."

He shrugs rubbing his neck, "You're welcome brat."

"What about that bouquet who's that for?" Gowoon innocently asks pointing to another bouquet that was partially hidden in his bomber jacket, bringing her attention to the last bundle in his hands inside a brown bag with a small blue bow tied at the base of the stems.

The pink changes to red.

He awkwardly shuffles under all their watchful eyes, staring out the window with intense focus as if it as the secrets to life.

"Oh my god, I know!" Gowoon exclaims snickering now as she bounces gleefully on the bed. She squirms in her seat trying to think of a believable excuse to leave the room, it couldn't really be for her right? He wasn't crazy enough to give her flowers in front of his family. Right?

"You have a crush on one of the nurses don't you? Seriously oppa, they're all too old for you. You're going to make them uncomfortable, they're just doing their job." Gowoon scolds him wagging her finger and pushing her glasses up the small bridge of her button nose.

Oh.

That made sense. They were for one of the nurses, probably the pretty that had allowed them to stay so late the other night. She had once again gotten ahead of herself, stupid. She should be relieved anyway this was better, if he had another crush then this thing between them would fade away and she'd stop feeling like she was walking on eggshells around him.

"What are you babbling about now? This isn't one of her dramas. I told you I was already there they aren't a big deal. Here, take it." He glares at his sister and shocks Sujin when he turns and thrusts the delicate bouquet at her, roughly placing them in her lap when she doesn’t accept them right away before taking the second empty seat next to his mother's bed. He pointedly avoids eye contact with all of them and she stares down at the flowers in her lap with her mouth open.

They are lovely, deep blues at the base that lightens as your eyes traverse the length of the flowers, baby blue fades to a piercing white making the bouquet look like a work of art itself.

"Oh they're for unnie. Okay. Good I thought you were trying to flirt." Gowoon dismisses the flowers now, turning back to her mother and continuing her story about her day ignoring them both now. She can feel Seojun's eyes hot on her face but she's unable to look away from the flowers in her lap.

Idiot.

She watches the family easily conversing never a lull in their animated conversation and she finally excuses herself, lying about going to find a bathroom. Nobody questions why she's bringing the flowers with her gratefully, she has no plausible reason for why she can't put the flowers down. Seojun stares at her unblinking but he lets her escape without question.

She leans against the solid wall outside the room as soon as the door slides shut, closing her eyes.

In, out. In, out. She coaches herself gulping in air pushing away the light-headed sensation at the base of her skull.

"You still have these pathetic attacks?" Her blood runs cold as the voice she hasn't heard in weeks siphons all the air she had just gifted her empty lungs.

No. No, it can't be.

But once she forces her eyes open she sees that her nightmare is indeed a reality.

Her father stares at her with contempt, his lips thin as they are pulled into a familiar sneer. He's wearing his white lab coat with a stethoscope around his neck and a clipboard in his hands.

Panic rises instantly as she looks at him, breathing is now impossible.

"You're lucky this is where we met. I got your present. It was perfect for the fireplace. I humored your little tantrum but it's over now. I expect you back home, tomorrow. You have another date with the boy you stood up last time. Thankfully your face was worth something. " His tone is conversational but she can see the rage swirling under the façade, his fists are white knuckled on the clipboard. He's barely holding himself back.

She clutches the flowers tighter desperate for support. She feels like she's free falling from a tremendous height.

"What are you doing here? What business do you have here?" He stares at her and she has to get him away, he can't see Seojun they can't meet here, especially outside his mother’s room. The other boy might do something reckless and her father looks dangerous right now, this could end badly. She has to protect him.

"I came to see you. To tell you to sign the papers." She replies with courage she's not currently feeling, it wavers as her father's eye become colder and penetrating.

"I'm not signing anything, you are my property. You better come to your senses before you make me really angry." He threatens her calmly in the hallway, as nurses and doctors walk by bowing to him in respect.

"I'll leave first." She whispers attempting to sidestep around him but he grips her wrist as she passes him, stopping her escape.

He eyes the flowers in her arms and she protectively clutches them in her arms shifting them away from him.

"Don't continue to piss me off. I will make you regret it."

She's ashamed at how frightened his words make her feel, she'd thought that she was strong enough to face him but she was wrong. Stupidly so. She feels small under his gaze her wrist crushing under his powerful grip but she's too scared to even pull away, powerless to stop his abuse.

"People are watching." The method her mother has always used, he might not care about her but he cares about his appearance. His hold loosens at her words until she's free and without pause she scurries away, her feet bringing her to safety until she's outside. She's panting so hard that her body is shaking, kneeling over with the bouquet between her knees.

She sees drops landing on the floor and wonders when it started raining, only to look up and see clear blue skies not a cloud in sight.

His wife whimpered on the ground clutching her face, bright red mark on her swollen cheek. He shook his smarting hand as he tightly gripped the papers in his hand that she had handed him. She had been stupid enough to actually bring this to him, he is tempted to slap her again.

Emancipation papers.

It would have been hilarious if it hadn't enraged him so much, who did she think to defy him? To try to leave when he wasn't done using her? The very idea was preposterous and he would beat it out of her as soon as he dragged her back home. This had gone on long enough, her little rebellion. He had humored it expecting her to come crawling back once he turned off her credit cards, but that hadn't been enough.

He hadn't expected her to have any friends to turn to.

He thrusted the disgusting papers into the blazing fire that he'd lit, smiling darkly as they burnt and turned to ashes. This was how he planned on dealing with her newfound defiance, he would burn it out of her.

The disobedient fool didn't know how good she truly had it, she was lucky all he did was smack her around a little. At least she had a father that cared enough to beat her.

He'd grown up all alone, rich beyond belief but left to fend for himself in hotel after hotel. His parents were only that by title, he'd been raised by a rotating stream of nannies and butlers. Nothing he did was enough to get their attention, even starting fights or cursing at teachers. All his actions were dismissed easily with a envelope of money, teachers and students all sucking up to him and enabling his behavior.

He'd learned at a young age that anybody could be bought and wrong and right was something that only the poor had to adhere by, he was above the law, transcending morality. He could do anything and nobody would stop him. Nobody would dare.

Except his own daughter, perhaps it was karma. A punishment for all his bad deeds, he laughs humorously at the idea. He's getting old now to have thoughts like that. Regardless of what she wants he has no plans of letting her go, she's his to do with as he wishes. That had been the only reason he'd married her pathetic mother and the only reason he hadn't forced her to get an abortion once he learned the sex of the baby. She'd been a beauty despite her pitiful background and he'd hoped that a child of theirs would at least be something worth looking at.

In the end she was, his business partners following her form as she bloomed into a woman. He hadn't cared about their wandering eyes planning on selling her to the highest and most advantageous bidder, and he had found a buyer. Someone that needed him too, combined they could build a formidable partnership. He had a son Sujin's age and he had easily offered his daughter to sweeten the deal.

It was time to bring home his wayward child by any means possible. These childish games were over.

"It's good to see you son. Have you been healthy? Eating well?" Suho sits down bowing his head in greeting to his father, it feels surreal to be sitting here with him but they've come a long way. Therapy has also done wonders to rebuilding their broken relationship, they attend twice a week. Now he can look at his father without pain and guilt scratching at his skin.

"I'm well. Thank you for agreeing to see me. I have to discuss something important with you." He cuts to the chase, unsure of the outcome of this conversation but Sujin hasn't been talking to him and he knows that they need his father's help. They can't take her father down alone, they're just kids.

"It sounds serious. Are you okay?" His father asks voice thick with genuine concern, his brows furrowed.

"It's not about me. It's someone else. I can't tell you much because it's not my story but I need to ask you this, if you had to choose between supporting me or a business partner who would you choose?" His father looks taken back by the question, searching his face with confused eyes.

"Son, what are you talking about? What business partner? Why are you asking this all of a sudden?"

He leans in staring directly into his father's eyes, he can now admit their resemblance as he stares at the face that looks so much like his.

"Dad, please just answer my question. If I needed your support, would you give it to me no matter what?" He questions, watching as his father stares at him in confusion and he waits patiently.

"Suho. I would choose you over anyone, I still need to prove myself if you're still asking me questions like that." He feels a tinge of guilt as his father shuffles away looking at him with a sad smile, he can't deny that. They've come far but there's still a part of him that remembers his father after his mother's passing, remembers blaming his father for years for his friends death. He's working on overcoming those scars but they are deep, beyond his flesh. Etched deep into his heart.

"One day I'm going to need your support. I need you to come without question. I need you to stand beside me." He stares at his father, seven years old again begging for his father's attention, his love.

Unlike his memories though, this time his father grabs his hand shooting him a melancholy smile, before nodding firmly.

"I'll be there. I'll stand beside you son."

Sujin is acting strange, more so than usual. Su-ah can't pinpoint what's wrong but the other girl is more shifty than usual and always staring off deep in thought, not even Seojun seems to know what's wrong with her. She had questioned the boy, he seemed as frustrated as her telling her that she'd started acting like this two days ago.

Nothing she does gets the other girl to talk, Sujin has resolutely slammed her walls firmly back in place. She watches her in the corner of her eye, sighing at the fake smile on the girl’s face it’s obvious to detect them now with all the real ones she's witnessed usually in a certain bad boy's presence.

Taehoon leans into her side, his arm wrapped protectively around her shoulder and she looks back at Seojun watching him watch the other girl. Jukyeong's occupying the space next to Sujin so the boy has no choice but to walk behind her, she can feel his longing. Wishes that Sujin would allow herself to be happy, full-heartedly. She notices how Sujin only allows herself to have Seojun in bursts, pushing him away when things become too much for her to handle. It's not fair to the other boy but she knows it's all her friend has to offer right now.

As they push open the school doors, she sees a swarm of students blocking the way. They are talking excitedly pointing and staring at something she can't see. She stands on her tiptoes trying to get a better view of what's happening, impatiently she pushes past the gossiping girls forcing her way to the front.

There's a guy she's never seen before, her eyes widen when she sees the motorcycle getting a sense of deja vu before glancing back at Seojun, staring impassively at the unknown boy. Everyone begins to look between the two boys, the resemblance is uncanny especially with this stranger showing up on a bike too. They look like doppelgangers, like when the evil twin shows up suddenly in a drama.

"Kang Sujin? Where is she?" The boy shouts to the crowd at large, looking around and she watches Seojun's eyes narrow icing over until they are glacial cold. Then Sujin steps forward looking unimpressed by this show, her resting bitch face in full swing despite the handsome stranger’s grin.

"Why are you looking for me?" She challenges, staring him down and all eyes are on them watching this unexpected meeting.

The boy whips a leg over the sleek bike, dismounting in one fluid motion. He's tall, even taller than Seojun and she can hear her school mates swooning at the mysterious boy, whispering about him being handsome and wishing they were Sujin. Fickle asses, they don't even know anything about him.

"I came to make sure you don't stand me up this time." He answers with a bite, there's a humorless grin on his face. A chill runs down her spine. She shifts closer to Sujin subconsciously, an innate desire to protect her flaring up.

Realization breaks on Sujin's face and she looks away, annoyance clear on her countenance.

"What do you want?" She finally asks looking exasperated with this very public conversation.

"I want the date you owe me. Let's go."

Her eyes narrow at his command not appreciating the way he's talking to her best friend, who is this rude entitled punk? Satisfaction rolls over her as Seojun steps up easily making his presence known as he scowls at the boy.

"Who the hell are you? She’s not going anywhere with you." He interrupts disdain dripping in every syllable as he steps in front of Sujin blocking her completely.

The boy raises a taunting brow at the move, before sneering cruelly right back.

"Who are you to ask me that? Get out of my face asshole." The other boy aggressively barks and she gasps as Seojun steps forward purposely raising his fist but before he can draw back and initiate the move, a dainty hand reaches out capturing his fist. Sujin briskly stops him lowering his hand and she watches as she doesn't release him immediately, standing side by side holding hands. They look like a team.

She's never seen anyone disarm Seojun like that before, Sujin's hand on him seems to evaporate all his rage and he is docile in the wake.

"Don't talk to him like that. You're starting to piss me off, I stood you up for a reason." Sujin steps forward and she wonders if her best friend knows how she looks, stepping in front of Seojun now seemingly defending him back.

The new boy sneers gazing down at their still joined hands, an ugly mean look on his face.

Then he steps forward swiftly and leans down roughly shoving Seojun away, much to the boy's vocal chagrin he stumbles back a few steps before he lunges at the other boy but it's too late he has already whispered something inaudible into Sujin's ear. Sujin steps in front of Seojun again blocking him before he can attack the strange boy, he stops immediately not wanting to hurt the smaller girl. He glares over Sujin’s shoulder, face enraged.

Sujin visibly deflates at the words and she hates the vindictive smile that stretches across the other boys face, she wishes she could punch it off. Who is this asshole?

Sujin seems lost in thought again, miles away even though she's right in front of them. When her face hardens she knows that the girl has reached a conclusion.

"Fine." Sujin finally steps forward, eyes wavering now as she glares defeated at the other boy. Her shoulders are lower now as if she's lost some of her fight, it breaks her heart. "I'll come with you." She weakly agrees voice barely above a whisper.

"Sujin! You don't have to go with him!" She yells leaving her boyfriend's arms and latching onto Sujin's elbow, sending a murderous glare to the asshole who's forcing her friend. She tugs Sujin back, refusing to let her go. She argues as Sujin peels her hands away, smiling sadly at her eyes shiny and hard.

"It's okay. I have to." She grasps at her best friends arm as she walks forward until she's right beside the boy's bike. The whole school is watching with bated breath, unsure of what exactly they're viewing but captivated nonetheless.

He tosses her an extra helmet without warning and it slams into Sujin's chest harshly and she bristles at the other boys callous action.

Sujin starts to put on the helmet before Seojun steps forward again, grabbing her wrist and she lowers the helmet staring up at him. They both stand frozen, eyes locked and she watches as Seojun silently pleads with Sujin, his face is loose and every emotion is written in the frown on his face. Sujin falters momentarily swaying into the tall boy their bodies dangerously close, her own eyes shining even brighter but then the strange boy revs his engine bursting their bubble and Sujin jumps backwards pulling away from Seojun.

Her heart jumps into her throat as she watches Sujin's mouth something to Seojun before turning away, helmet slid down her head roughly before climbing onto the bike. Seojun looks completely crushed when she wraps her arms around the other boys waist, straddling the huge bike.

"You should learn your place." The other boy scowls triumphantly, revving the engine once more.

"Shut up. Let's go." Sujin interrupts the showboating, staring straight ahead. Looking at Seojun she sees exactly why the other girl is avoiding looking at him, if heartbreak was a person it would be him.

Without another word, the mysterious boy knocks the kickstand up and squeezes the throttle and within seconds the bike roars to life, leaving them all behind Sujin's long hair bellowing behind her as they disappear down the road.

She looks over at Seojun, Suho and Jukyeong both look worried too. He stares after Sujin and the unknown boy fuming silently before he spins around, stomping away without a word.

Sujin, I hope you know what you're doing. This might be too much for him to handle.

She stares helplessly as Seojun stalks away, Chorong running after him but unable to keep up with his long gait. He doesn’t want to be caught, shutting them all out.

#true beauty #junjin #bring me to life #bmtl #a cameo #guess who it is #han seojun #kang sujin #it started cute but it can never stay that way with these two #oops #angst #true beauty kdrama

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fitzs-trained-monkey · 3 years

Text

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Red Roses, Red Roses

Rated: 16+ For graphic descriptions of violence and gore, brief mentions of rape, mentions of torture, mentions of abuse, and disturbing images.

Masterlist

~All the pretty girls, they find

A way to keep you on my mind

I swear I heard you singing along

Cities pass like candy stores

And you're the one

I'm looking for

And so

I'm just a boy

Who's telling a girl

That when I grow up I'll buy you a rose

When I grow up, I'll buy you a rose~

"Okay, but what is the proper plural form of Nephilim?" I asked from the back seat of the Impala as it drove through the winding roads from the bunker and into town. "See, 'cause ' Nephilims ' sounds weird. So, is it ' Nephili ' like ' octopi ', or could it be ' Nephilice ' like ' mice '? I need to know this, guys."

The car was silent. Sam, Cas, and Jack were all thinking over the answer to my question and Dean was just rolling his eyes in the mirror.

"Maybe-" Sam started slowly "-Maybe it's just 'Nephilim'. You know, like ' moose '?"

"Yeah, that kinda sounds right, I guess." I nodded. Dean laughed and shook his head, glancing at me in the mirror. "What?"

"Oh, nothin'." He waved a hand. "I just don't get ya' is all."

"Yeah, neither do I." I shrugged and Jack must have found something funny because he snickered. "But what is it that you don't get?"

Dean shrugged. "I mean, I know you get rattled; Felix scares you and I get that. But you just take everything else in stride! How do you do that? I just- I don't get it."

"I told you this, Dean. I'm good at hiding my reactions to things and if I can't hide them then I use them to gain sympathy from others." I glanced at Jack, catching his eye. "At least, that's what I do until I can really trust somebody."

Jack smiled a little and tugged me closer into his side. He had been acting sorta weird since we'd all piled into the Impala for the drive into town. Jack had wrapped his arm around my waist and held me tight against him, almost as if he was keeping me away from the trench-coated angel on my other side. He kept shooting Cas these weird glances and I couldn't help but wonder what they could be about. If I hadn't known better, I would have thought that Jack was being possessive.

Not that I was complaining about our close proximity or anything! Jack was really warm and winter in Kansas was, shall we say, not. Who was I to turn down free cuddles? Although those cuddles did kinda make me want to sink my teeth into him. He smelled so sweet and his skin looked so frustratingly soft. Maybe one of these nights I could sneak into his room and get a taste. That could make things better, I mean, half the torture of being around him was the curiosity of not knowing.

"And we're here!"

Sam's voice knocked me out of that potentially devastating train of thought and I followed Jack out of the car. Okay, ' followed ' is the wrong word. Jack pretty much just pulled me out of the car with him. He didn't let go of me. Weird.

The town of Lebanon, Kansas reminded me quite a bit of Copper Harbor. The main difference was that Lebanon was bigger... A lot bigger. The buildings were small and friendly, made of red brick and wooden doors and windows with glass that bulged out at the bottom. The streetlamps were iron and curled over the street as they should and there were planter boxes underneath display windows. The whole town just breathed in a way that said ' stay awhile '.

"It's Christmas time," I noted aloud, "I almost forgot."

There were colorful lights wrapped around poles and wreaths hung on doors with bells that jingled when they opened. There were even speakers placed outside that filled the air with all sorts of holiday music and I felt a smile split across my face as I started to sing along.

"Oh, no. Don't tell me you sing too," Dean chuckled as he held open the door of a discount clothing store. I was about to say something witty as a response but Jack beat me to the chance.

"She does! She sang to me last night," He said, smiling down at me. Dean raised an eyebrow, glancing at the acute lack of space between us. Jack noticed and let go of my waist.

"Oh yeah? And how was that?" Dean asked, smirking.

Jack's brow's furrowed and his head tilted as he eyed me like he was trying to remember something.

"It was..."

' Please don't say anything that'll get me dead! ' I pleaded silently.

"It was magical ."

Sam, Dean, and Cas all shared a strange look, but before anything more could be said, the shopkeeper waltzed in from the back room.

Her silver hair was cut short and straight with the ends tucked around her chin. She was a short, thin woman probably in her late forties or early fifties with a not-a-hair-out-of-place sort of attitude. I would bet twenty bucks that her name was Christie spelled with a 'Ch' that she would be sure to remind us of. Click-clacking her way over to us in a pair of atrociously hot pink six-inch heels, the woman regarded us over the tops of her thick, rectangular glasses which hung on a chain around her neck. She flicked her eyes over each person individually in a way that reeked of silent judgment and when her eyes landed on me I was tempted to flip her off. When she was satisfied that she knew everything there was to know about us, the woman fixed a painfully fake smile onto her face and greeted us, speaking slowly like we were uneducated simpletons.

"Well, hi there all! My name's Christie with a 'Ch', you know, like in 'Christmas'? What are your names?"

Called it.

"Hey, Christie. I'm Dean, this is my brother Sam, standing really creepily behind me is Cas, and this one here is his son Jack." Dean pointed as he introduced everyone, sounding annoyed as if this was his tenth time meeting Christie which it probably was. "We're lookin' to get Marty here some warm clothes. Got anything, ah, petite?"

I shot Dean a pointed look to which he just smirked. It wasn't my fault he and his brother were so freakishly tall. In front of us, Christie ignored his request to do business and kept on chatting.

"Sam and Dean Winchester? I remember you, boys. Why didn't you tell me one of you had a daughter as pretty as this little vision? Is she yours, Sam? She looks a bit like you," She cooed, stroking my hair as if that was a socially acceptable thing to do. I almost bit her hand off but smiled instead. Her question caught Sam off guard.

"No, no. Marty's not my daughter," He chuckled nervously, shaking his head.

"Oh! My mistake. Is she yours, Dean?"

"What? No! O'corse not!"

I nearly smacked my face with my palm. Were these guys trying to look like kidnappers? Considering their age and the way I was dressed, oh yeah, this totally looked like a kidnapping.

Christie frowned and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer to her side. Jack reached for me but Christie pulled me further away, glaring at him.

"Oh, dear me. I shouldn't be calling the police on you boys now, should I?"

Sam and Dean glanced at each other, trying to come up with some sort of excuse and Christie was already pulling out her phone. A very Isaac-like idea popped into my brain. I rolled my eyes and huffed, pushing away from Christie.

"Ugh! Why do you guys have to be so weird about it? I mean, if you have to dress like child abductors then you could at least try not to act like it!" I turned to Christie, shaking my head. "Yeah, sorry about them, ma'am. It's a really long and scandalous story and you probably don't wanna hear the details, but I'm not being kidnapped, I promise."

Christie perked up at the mention of scandal, she was probably just itching for some juicy gossip to spread around at one of her knitting meetings.

"Well, I should probably hear the whole story just to make sure," She said, almost buzzing with excitement.

"Are you sure?" I baited, "It's pretty bad!"

"Oh, you can tell me, hon! I won't tell anybody."

Liar, liar, pants on fire!

"Alright, so long story short, my mom is Cas's aunt and she's a slut who cheated on my dad, who's a straight-up loser. So, he only found out that I'm not his just last week and filed for divorce within two days because he finally has an excuse to get rid of me now. Except, surprise-surprise, my mom never wanted me either because I'm a useless mistake and so they both threw me to child support which Cas here saved me from because he's a decent human being!" I finished my rant of bull crap and inhaled deeply. Christie had bought every word.

"Aw, you poor baby! You get a discount, sweetheart, and if one of your parents ever comes in here I'm gonna wring their neck!" She continued babbling as she led us through the store while Sam, Dean, Cas, and Jack all stared at me like I had eight heads. I smirked at them and shrugged a little.

Five hours and six oversized bags of clothes later and we were out of that store. We crossed the street and collapsed on some benches outside a diner, remaining silent for a while.

"That was worse than Hell!" Dean complained, tugging his boots off and rubbing his sore feet. "If I had to hear that woman talk for one more minute, I might have slit her throat!"

The rest of us made noises of agreement. Well, all except Jack who just shrugged.

"I thought she was nice," He said, though he too looked worn out.

"That wasn't nice, Jack. That was prying," Cas corrected him.

"Yeah," I agreed, "I wasn't sure how much more crap I could spout about your aunt, Cas!"

"Yeah, um, speaking of," Sam cut in, "You had that whole thing pretty handled, Marty. Where'd all that stuff come from anyway?"

"I've been on my own since I was nine, Sam," I lied, lowering my head and picking at my jeans.

"I get that, but-"

" Since I was nine , Sam ." I glanced up to see Sam's mouth form into an 'O' of understanding. I looked away again, quieting my voice. "I know how to make up excuses that people won't question."

"Ah."

"You are quite the liar, Martina," Cas spoke up with a tilt of his head. The way his words curled in on one another made it impossible for me to tell whether his statement was one of praise, suspicion, or both. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Jack eyeing Cas, his lip curled in a scowl that looked unnatural when displayed by his gentle features.

I didn't look up at the angel sitting in front of me. A tight smile tugged at the corner of my lips as I tapped the pads of my fingers against my knees.

"You don't trust me do you, Castiel?" I asked, trying to keep my voice neutral. Cas sighed and shook his head; I watched Jack's hands clench into fists.

"No. No, I don't," He said, eyeing Jack's reactions as well.

"Why not?" I still didn't look up, feeling the angel's gaze shift to me.

"You lie so easily to others, and you do it very well. What's to stop you from doing the same to us?" For once, Castiel's tone didn't seem accusatory. He sounded truly curious and... understanding almost. His words were something close to gentle.

"Nothing, really," I answered honestly, "For five years, it was just me . I had Isaac but I still felt so alone . I felt so small and scared and purposeless . All I did was run and hide, it was like I was just waiting to die. So, when you guys offered me protection, I couldn't say no. I couldn't say no, even if I didn't actually need it."

"Didn't need it? What's that supposed to mean?" Dean asked, leaning his elbows on his knees. I shrugged.

"You guys saw a small kid getting attacked in that alleyway and you helped her out. You just made the same mistake that everybody does."

"And what mistake is that?" Cas pressed, squinting curiously.

"Thinking that small means the same thing as helpless," I took a deep breath, shaking my head, "It doesn't, and I'm not. I told you I was clever, you just never stopped to think about what that meant. What you guys don't seem to get is that I survived for five years . I was just scared that if you knew then you would leave me there alone and I- I just couldn't."

"So, you lied to us?" Sam asked with a frown. I nodded.

"I did. I lied to you and I'm sorry."

"We wouldn't have turned you away, Marty," Jack said, softly grasping my hand.

"I think somewhere deep down I knew that. There were just these things I had to do to survive and I was so scared that if you knew about them, then you wouldn't want me. So, I lied. Because the only thing I could think about was how I just couldn't be alone anymore." I laughed in spite of myself.

Jack nodded solemnly before glancing up and getting distracted by something across the street. His face lit up as he let go of my hand and stood, bounding towards whatever had caught his attention. I didn't bother to watch him.

"Look, Marty," Dean sighed and shook his head a bit, "You seem like a pretty sweet kid and I like you, a lot. Now, I may not know everything about your past, but I know from experience that the only thing that can make up for your mistakes is trying your best to do the right thing now. I wanna trust you, Marty. We all do. But if you keep all these secrets, then we can't do that. So, can you promise us just one thing?"

"Name it."

"No more lies?"

"No more lies," I lied.

"Good." Sam smiled. "So, is there anything else we should know about you?"

There were so many things. None of which I could tell.

"Well, there might be one thing."

"What?"

I opened my mouth to speak but I was cut off by a flower being presented before my eyes. The flower was a rose and the rose was white. It was gorgeous and perfect, there wasn't a single flaw on any of the smooth petals and it was just one step short of full bloom.

There was a hand attached to the rose and I plucked the flower from his fingers, twirling it between my own.

"What's this for?" I asked as I looked up at Jack who beamed down at me the way I remember summer sunshine being like.

"It reminds me of you," He said simply.

"Why?" I chuckled.

"Um, because you said that you pretended to be innocent and helpless because you thought that nobody would want you if they knew otherwise. So, um, I-" He gestured to the rose's thorn-covered stem. "Well, t-this one has spiky-things on it."

"So, it does." I nodded, giggling at his strange explanation. Jack flashed me a grin and continued.

"At first, I thought it was just beautiful, like you, and I didn't see the spiky things until I picked it up. When I touched it, it hurt, but I took it anyway. See, it's still beautiful - even with the spikes - I still wanted it. So, I want you to know that even if you have spikes, I still want you."

Around. There was an ' around ' tagged on the end of that sentence, he just forgot to put it there. Right?

"Thank you, puppy. That was very sweet," I said, catching a glimpse of the flower cart across the street where he must have gotten it. The cart was unattended. In fact, the whole street was oddly empty. It was Christmas time, the street shouldn't have been empty, but it was and that gave me a very bad feeling.

Jack smiled so innocently it made me want to cry.

"You're welcome!"

"You paid for this though, right?"

Jack's face immediately told me the answer. "Is it not for free?"

"Nope, you stole it. You're criminal now," I joked.

"Oh." Jack frowned for a moment. Then he shrugged. "Well, when we grow up, I'll buy you one."

I had the chance to say something witty, so naturally, I replied with:

"Cool."

I mentally slapped myself. Of course, he says something cute and all I say back is ' cool '. My brain hates me.

I felt my cheeks heating up, so I ducked my head down. Deciding that we were in a shaded enough spot, I tugged the light-teal-colored baseball cap off my head. (I had been using it to hide my face from the harsh burning of the sunlight that drifted over the town.) The cap had a manatee sewn on the front and was one of the few things I had brought with me from my past life on the sunny shores of Florida. Laying the hat in my lap, I pulled my thick black braid over my shoulder and proceeded to weave the rose's stem into it loosely. Then, I flipped my hair back and smashed the baseball cap back on my head.

Meanwhile, the angel boy just smiled down at me as if he hadn't just said some of the kindest words I'd heard in five years. My cheeks felt like they were on fire and suddenly my shoes were extraordinarily interesting.

My attention was drawn away, however, when out of the corner of my eye, I watched Cas's back go ramrod straight. His head tilted to the side like he was listening for something, his eyes narrowing to one-quarter squint power.

"Cas?" Dean called to his friend. More like their friend, really, Sam and Jack were his family too. I guess I couldn't bring myself to call the angel my friend while I was lying to his face about everything I was.

"There are monsters somewhere here, I can sense them," Castiel said quietly. Jack stopped and tilted his head like Cas, focusing.

"I sense them too," He reported, glancing at me, "They're vampires." I sat up a little straighter.

"Put your shoes back on, Dean. You cannot rest while enemies are nearby," I said, smiling wryly and letting an edge of nervousness creep into my voice.

"How many are there?" Dean demanded, already taking charge.

Cas squinted harder. "Seven... Wait, no. There are eight."

"Where? C-can you sense that?" Sam asked.

"No-" Cas shook his head before turning to his surrogate son. "-But Jack can."

Cas sent a small nod to Jack who nodded back and directed his gaze upward, stretching out a hand. His eyes flicked into glistening gold and I could feel my hair stand on end as the air became charged with raw power. For a split second, I almost thought I saw the outline of feathered appendages sprouting from the boy's back. Then, Jack's eyes flickered back into their crystalline blue and I shook the after image away. Whatever I had thought I'd seen was gone before I could register it.

"There are two of them hiding in an alley about thirty yards that way-" He pointed to the left "-and there are five more. They're waiting for an ambush? I think? They're over there. In that really suspicious-looking grey van parked four cars down." He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder and I leaned over to glance at the car. Jack had been right, the van totally looked like it belonged to the mafia or something.

"What about the last one?" Dean pressed, his eyes shifting around to examine his environment. Jack shook his head.

"I-I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"I mean, I can sense it - I know it's here somewhere - but it's cloudy. I can't tell exactly where; it's like it's everywhere and nowhere at the same time."

Jack called the vampire an ' It '. Of course, he did. It was a vampire. It was a monster. What else does one call a monster? What else does one call a thing like that? After all, that's all it was; that's all I was. A thing . Not a someone, not a person, not a friend . A thing . A pest , a nuisance , a parasite to be eradicated. Skrew all Jack's kind words and endearing actions; they didn't mean anything! He could never really love me back. It was only a matter of time before he realized that. It was only a matter of time before he started calling me ' It '.

' How long will that be, I wonder .'

I was pulled from my thoughts by a scream. It rang, high and sharp, and it echoed off the brick buildings.

"HELP! HELP ME!" A woman's voice cried.

"Max?" Jack whispered, his eyes going wide. I didn't know who that was and apparently, neither did Dean as he flung his strong arm out in front of Jack who began to sprint towards the sound.

"Who?" Dean demanded. Jack struggled to push past him but Dean wouldn't budge.

"That-that's Max! She's my friend! Those things have her! She needs our help!" He explained impatiently. Dean's face scrunched up.

"Wait, wait. Max? Teenage girl? White hair? 'Bout yea high?" The elder Winchester made a height comparison with his hand and Jack rolled his eyes.

"Yes! Now, come on!" Jack huffed.

"Oh ho! So that's why you're not going for abandonment issues over there?" Dean teased. Letting go of Jack, they started towards the sound of screaming. "Does Jack-Jack have a girlfriend?"

Jack stopped and faced Dean, confusion written across his brow. "Max already has a girlfriend."

"Oh."

The two dorks were brought back to reality when that Max girl screamed again.

"SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP!"

Her voice was followed by another, a boy this time.

"HEY! HEY! HELP! ANYBODY! HELP US!"

"That's Eliot!" Jack took off down the street at a full-on sprint. Dean, Sam, and Cas hot on his heels.

"No, no! Please, go on ahead without me," I muttered, sarcastically, "Save the damsel! I'll just... wait here then."

Huh. Max and Eliot. I felt like those names should be switched around, but then again, I go by Marty, so who am I to judge?

Out of nowhere, I felt a stinging pain in my shoulder. A syringe. I knew the feeling well. Before I could react, the pain suddenly doubled, rapidly spreading all throughout my body like a viral infection.

Dead man's blood.

I whipped my head to the left to meet an all too familiar pair of brown eyes.

"What's bouzzin' gousin?" An accented voice jeered.

Then everything was black.

***

The vampires were taken care of rather easily. Jack felt like a Jedi Knight as he suspended them in the air, stringing them up like the murderers they were. They didn't even struggle. Like convicts dangling from a hangman's noose, the vampires knew as soon as they saw Jack's glowing eyes, that their deaths were nigh at hand. Jack thrust out a hand and caught them in the pulsing rings of his grace, a sound like drum beats underwater reverberating off the alley walls. With a grin, the boy clenched his hand into a fist and the monsters splintered into not but dust.

With the threat eradicated, the glow in Jack's eyes flickered out and he turned to the high-schoolers who he considered his friends.

"Hello, Max! Hello, Eliot! It's alright, you're safe now," He chimed, nodding to each kid in turn and lifting his hand in greeting, though he refrained from actually waving it. Upon seeing him raise his hand, the kids shared a look of sheer terror and backed away. Jack frowned at their reactions, lowering his hand. "No, no! Wait, it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you!"

Max and Eliot paused, trying to determine whether or not they believed him.

Unbeknownst to Jack, Max and Eliot didn't actually like him. ( After finding out about the supernatural, the teens were disappointed when the Winchesters refused to tell them more about spirits and monsters. Enter Jack, and his unfortunate lack of talent in terms of keeping his trap shut. ) Max and Eliot had only hung out with Jack once, and that was exclusive because they knew that he lived with the Winchesters. Against his better judgment, Jack had shown them a glimpse of his powers and though they thought his telekinesis was cool, the teens had agreed not to search the boy out again.

There was just something about Jack that unsettled them, frightened them, terrified them. Just like every other human who had seen what Jack could do; deep down, they were all afraid of him. Because he wasn't normal, he wasn't right, he wasn't human .

"What did you just do to those guys?" Eliot asked, staring with eyes as wide as quarters. Jack thought it would be better not to answer that question.

"It's okay! They were monsters," He reassured.

"He disintegrated them," Cas deadpanned. Dean shot the angel a look. "What?"

"YOU DISINTEGRATED THEM?!" Max screeched loud enough to make Jack flinch.

"Yes?"

"You didn't just, like, proof em' away or something?" Eliot added, a little quieter.

"Um, no. No, I didn't."

"COULD YOU DO THAT TO US?!"

"Most likely, yes," Jack answered, thoughtfully, "I've never tried it on humans, though. But I would never hurt you guys, you're my friends!"

"You're really freaky, dude," Elliot said, shaking his head slowly, "And, like, not in a good way."

"I know." Jack hung his head. They were afraid of him. They hated him. He shouldn't have expected otherwise.

"I'm never gonna be able to un-see that," Max muttered, staring at the cement.

That gave Jack an idea, maybe there was a way to undo this.

"I know you're probably freaking out, but I think I know a way to make it better," He said, trying to sound reassuring.

"Nah, man. I don't want any of your freaky Aquaman powers used on me!" Eliot shook his head.

"No powers." Jack smiled despite how badly their words hurt. "I promise."

His stomach twisted with the lie, but they didn't need to know that. Max and Eliot shared another glance.

"Okay..." They agreed, hesitantly.

"I have a friend. Her name is Marty," Jack explained, leading them back to the bench where his family had left the girl. "She's right here!"

Except she wasn't.

That's when the Nephilim's phone rang.

It was a picture message. Marty sat unconscious tied to a chair in some shack. The text read:

"I really would hate to incur the wrath of the Winchesters, so consider this a ransom note. All you have to do is find her in time. Tick-tock. ~ Felix "

Max peered over Jack's shoulder.

"Hey! I know that place!"

***

"Welcomb back to the land of the livinc' where the livinc' are, in fact, dead!"

Okay, so she knew I was awake. I kept my eyes closed anyway and canvassed my new environment. Having grown up blind, I didn't need my eyes to see.

My hands were bound with zip-ties to the arms of the splintering wooden chair I sat in. The space around me was large but not cavernous as there was no echo. This was a shack of some kind judging by how the metal panels making up the roof clanged against one another in the wind. The shack was also dark to protect vampire skin from the sun, and in winter, no sun meant freezing temperatures. There was a weight covering my lap; someone had given me a blanket. I caught the scent of hay among other less pleasurable farm smells. I could hear the shifting of five pairs of feet surrounding me in a circle. This was going to be fun.

Opening my eyes, at last, I was met with the sight of a young woman around the age of twenty-two, lounging on a few hay bails. She was long, lean, and muscular with a round face displaying a crooked smile. I could see the end of a tie-dyed shirt sticking out beneath the fluffy black coat she wore. Her green and purple hair was chopped short in a punk rocker pixie cut that stuck out in at least five different directions. If I wasn't mistaken, a few of the strands appeared to be scorched on the ends. Her cheekbones were low and prominent and plenty rosy. She had full lips and a button nose that was home to two tiny diamond studs. The woman wore her dark green eyeshadow with plum-colored lipstick unapologetically. Her eyes, which were set deeper than most, turned down at the corners and sparkled with mischief. They were accompanied by thick dark eyebrows, the left of which had apparently gotten a third piercing since I had last seen her.

"Ah hah! So she is alive!" She said, her thick Dutch accent coating her words, "I was begininc' to worry that you had follen asleep... Again."

I shrugged despite my restraints.

"Yeah, well I can only sleep-in so long."

"You never were a morninc' person, were you?" The woman sighed, shaking her head. I watched her arrow-head pendant as it swung back and forth from her neck.

"Nope."

"And dat's why we're frien'ds!" She chirped.

"We're not friends, Elwyn." Okay, so maybe that was a bit harsh but it was better than pretending like everything was fine and dandy between us. Elwyn faked a gasp.

"You used my fuoll name! You muss be serious. Why so c'old, mijn lieve ?" She asked, tilting her head.

"Spending five years as a walking corpse will do that to you," I answered, smiling thinly. "Why are you here, Elwyn? What's this act for? We both know that if I wanted to walk out of here right now, I could do so without a scratch on me. What do you want?"

"You might 'ave been able to woltz out of 'ere if you had a full tanc', dat's true." Elwyn nodded, in agreement. Then she tilted her head and frowned at me with pouty lips. "But you're quite weak now. I'm sorry, hones'ly. I t'ought dat you'd be able to 'andle dat much dead man's blood but you still look pale an' shaiky!"

"Well, I've always been pale," I replied, narrowing my eyes. Elwyn sat up, crossing her legs and putting a fist to her chin. Her brows furrowed and she looked at me with what seemed to be genuine concern for my well-being.

"How lon'g has it been since you fed, liefste ?" She asked in a gentler tone.

"A little over two weeks," I answered honestly.

"Two weeks?! Nothinc'? Not even somethinc' piffy, like a ra'bbit?"

I shook my head and shrugged.

"Oh, jij arme ding ! I know you ha'te it, but how could you do dis' du yourself?!" She cried, shaking her head in dismay. I looked away. Deep down I knew that Elwyn really did care about me, albeit in her own strange way. I was being harsh with her and that wasn't exactly fair. She was Felix's prisoner too.

"I more than hate it, Ellie," I said, speaking softer now, "But I just couldn't find a good opportunity. Besides, I can take it."

Elwyn rolled her chocolate-brown eyes.

"No you gan't, Mardina! Look at yourself! You're runninc' on foomes and it shows!" Elwyn huffed, her accident becoming more prominent as her emotion shown through. "Be hones'd wit me, dis is because of dose Win-kesters, isn't it?"

"Not exactly," I said, picking at a splinter on the wooden arm-rest. I knew the real reason and it was a stupid one. I mean, of all the ways to try to be better, starving myself to the breaking point probably wasn't the smartest. But I wanted to be good, pure. I wanted to be human. For him.

"Ah, I see." Elwyn smiled softly. "I was told aboud dat Nephilim boy, the rumors were wrong about him. I was watchinc' you two today; he's not a ragink' monster at all."

"No, he's not." I shook my head.

"He's a zoet wezen , no?" Elwyn chuckled to herself, "Sorry, I don' know de word for it in English."

I nodded. The closest translation of her Dutch was ' sweet creature '. It fit.

"What's his name?" Elwyn asked without the slightest bit of hostility.

I smiled. "His name is Jack."

" Hou je van hem ?"

"I don't know," I said, shrugging. Elwyn smiled knowingly.

"Yes, you do. And if what I saw was any indication, he feels the same."

"No, he doesn't, Ellie," I sighed and gestured to the child body I was trapped in. "He can't. Just look at me! I'm just a sister to him and if he knew what I really am then he'd hate me!"

"So, dat's what dis is about." Elwyn nodded with understanding.

"What do you mean?"

"You t'ink yourself bad, so you want du be good for him. Dat's why you 'aven't been feeding," She explained, sounding matter-of-fact.

"Yeah, I guess so." I looked away.

"Well, das not good!" Elwyn leaned forward and cut the zip-ties that held me to the chair. Then she reached behind her and fished around a bit until she pulled her arm back and held it out to me, a blood bag resting in her palm. "Have a snack now and your engel jongen will never know!"

I glanced at it for a moment but it didn't take much to break my willpower. I snatched the bag from her hand and ripped it open, downing it like there was no tomorrow.

"You gan slow down, geliefde. I brough't more." Elwyn chuckled.

"You did?" I asked looking up.

"I had a sneakinc' suspission dat dis was goin'c du 'appen." She shrugged, tossing me another bag which I ripped into also. She reached behind her again, this time tugging around a small cooler full of the stuff which she pushed over to me. "I admire your willpower, Mardina. I don t'ink I'd have de kinda strengt for what you're pullinc'. How'd you do it?"

"Do what?" I asked, halfway through my second bag.

"Live with dose 'unters day in an' day out!" She exclaimed, "Esspecialy dat e ngel jongen ! Da kid smells like garamel chocolate! I envy your gontrol. How'd you stan' so close to him? I was eighty-feet away and I gould 'ardly gontrol myself!"

Well, at least I wasn't the only one.

"I gotta keep up apperences, Ellie. You know all about that." I knew I sounded guarded, but this subject made me uncomfortable.

"But you gould still get a taste. I know you gan make pepole forget t'ings."

I sighed, finishing my second bag and grabbing another.

"You know, Elwyn? You almost got me." I smiled, shaking my head.

"What do you mean?" She asked, feigning obliviousness.

"For a second there, I almost thought you were still my friend."

"I am your friend," Elwyn insisted, "I defied Felix for you!"

"Then you ran right back to him the second I turned my back."

"I had too," She spoke, her voice regretful.

"No! No you didn't! You chose too. You chose him over me !"

" Hij is mijn vader ! Ik moest !" Elwyn cried. Tears brimmed in her eyes.

"I don't care!" I shouted back, "We were free! We both could have been free! But no, you chose to leave me all alone in the middle of the woods!"

"I knew you'd be fine," She whispered. I shook my head, pressing my lips together.

"No, you didn't," I growled. "Do you have any idea how long I wandered for?!"

"You made it out."

"Not in one peace. I lost things in there, Elwyn." I shook my head. "You left me there." Then, I let out a harsh, rasping, laugh and spat my next words. "And for what? To run right back into the arms of the father that never even loved you!"

Elwyn hung her head. " Het spijt me zeer. I'm so sorry."

"You should be," I said, cooly. "Why do you always run back to him? And don't give me any of that ' he's my father ' bull crap."

"I don know. But what I do know is dat I am still your friend."

"Right." I nodded, smiling through tight lips. "Why are you really here, Elwyn?"

She took a deep breath, wiping away the tears that had slipped down her face, and looked up. "I game 'ere to save you," She said.

"Excuse me?"

"From dose 'unters!" She explained, "Felix told me dat you were with de Win-kesters and I begged him to let me c'ome rescue you. An' he said yes! He's so much kinder den he used to be; he promised dat he wouldn' make you do anyt'ing you didn' want to!"

Elwyn smiled at me and took my hand.

"Oh, yeah?" I scoffed, "Then what was that phone call, huh? What? Is killing my friend supposed to win me over?"

"Hey, I said dat Felix is kinder den he was." Elwyn sighed. "He's still Felix though. He was tryinc' to intimidate de Win-kesters into letting you go."

"I'm not being held hostage!" I insisted.

"But you are still in danger!" Her eyes softened, "Dey will kill you if dey find out what you are."

"I know."

"C'ome with me," She pleaded, "C'ome with me, an' Jack will never find out about you. C'ome with me an' he'll never break your heart."

I paused. Was there really any chance?

No. There was no chance. No chance that Felix could ever change. It was one in a million. There was no chance and no choice .

"If you're really here to save me, then what's with your little posse?" The five other vampires had been unusually quiet for idiots of their caliber.

Elwyn shrugged. "In case t'ings get messy."

"We'll, then you better plan on things getting messy because I'm not coming with you," I said with a smirk.

"Why not?"

"Because Felix wants me dead, Elwyn, and that's not going to change."

The woman's face fell.

"I know you didn' mean to kill Madra," She whispered, gently. I shook my head and frowned.

"I didn't kill her," I hissed, "Felix killed his soulmate, not me."

"And he sees dat now. He knows dat it wasn' your fault, dat you couldn't gontrol it. He realises dat and he forgives you!" She smiled a little.

"And how many times did he have to beat you before he realized that?"

"C'ome on, Mardina!" She sighed, though I could see the pain her eyes hid. "Dis is an olive branch! Jus' take it!"

I shook my head and I laughed. I laughed long and loud and hard. I laughed like a girl gone mad. I had told Elwyn that I had lost something when she had left me in those woods, I wanted her to know what it was.

"No," I said. Then I stretched my bloody lips into a mad, humorless grin, "I don't want your olive branch."

"Why not? Its your best chance! Don you want peace?"

"Peace? PEACE?! " I spat, "You know what he did to me, what he made me! You think after every thing he took away, that I would want peace ? You think after what I did, Felix would offer me peace?"

"I don't want peace," I said, beginning the rhyme I'd heard when I was still alive, "I want war and I want my enemy's head hung like a boar. I didn't come for money and I don't want his crown, see, I've come to burn his kingdom down. So, come one, come all, to take a dance with the dead and stain the petals of the white roses red."

"Mardina, please!"

The other vampires in the room shifted, readying for a fight. But I was faster.

Launching myself from that splintering wooden chair, I threw my body forward towards the stack of haybales Elwyn had previously sat on. I had to jump to avoid the vamp that tried to grab my legs and that pushed me forward a little too much but it wasn't something I couldn't compensate for. Landing on my hands, I shoved my body up, and over the hay bales in a vamp strength enhanced backflip. I landed on my feet and flipped my hair back. The shed's door was in front of me. Sure, it was locked but the lock was only one of those slidey metal bars which are super easy to break and if I was going to fight five vamps at once, it would be wise to keep my back to the door that way I might be able to be thrown through the door and land outside instead of pushed into a dead-end wall. Also, if I was going to fight five vamps at once, I was going to need the proper tool for the job. Beside the door, my eyes landed on a tool rack. I spied my weapon of choice. This was going to be fun .

It was one of those weird four-prong rakes that I'm not completely sure is called a rake. A label on the shaft said it was a soil cultivator but I didn't care what it was called because I was fighting for my life. The four prongs were about five inches long and although the shed wasn't new, the equipment in there thankfully wasn't that old, so the four steel prongs were still wicked sharp.

I ducked, dodging the arms of another vamp before rushing for the tool rack. Another vamp sprang in front of me, blocking my way and I paused. This one had bleach-blond chin-length hair. I knew him. I remembered him from when I was in Felix's cage. This one's name was Boyd and he liked to touch things that didn't belong to him. I couldn't fight back then, but I could now.

"How's it goin', Boyd?"

"So, you remember me, do ya?" He jeered, beginning to circle me like a predator circling its prey. Little did he know, he was not the predator here.

"Oh, I remember you alright. See, Boyd, I'm not a good little girl-" He used to call me that, "- not anymore. I don't do what I'm supposed to. See, when it comes to bastards like you, I don't forgive and I most certainly don't forget."

"Well, I guess its a real shame that I forgot your name, then. You were one of my favorites!" He laughed, "Only thing I remember 'bout you now is how loud you used to scream."

I gave him a cold smile and lunged straight for his legs. Grasping his ankle, I twisted and pulled, sending him crashing to the floor. Then I lifted his leg, rolled over, and slammed my arm down on his knee. There was an ear-splitting snap and he screeched like an animal.

"Who's screaming now, Boyd?" I taunted. I sprung up and stomped down on Boyd's throat, crushing his windpipe. As a vampire, that wouldn't kill him which was good because I wasn't done with him yet. I was going to make him hurt. Why would I want peace when I could have revenge? Revenge felt good.

I rolled away when a red-haired vamp took a swing at my head. I bolted for the four-prong rake and brandished it the way you would a staff. The rake was long, about three inches taller than me, but I easily found the balance point. I spun it around in my hand as I circled the other four vamps.

"Mardina, we gan talk aboud dis!" Elwyn tried, grabbing my arm. I threw my head back and laughed.

"No, Ellie. We can't!" I flipped the rake over, using the blunt end to whack Elwyn upside the head with supernatural strength and speed. She was knocked out. "Stay down. You're not like them and I don't want to kill you."

The red-haired vamp ran at me again and I spun out of the way, flipping the shaft again and swinging it down as he passed me. Two of the prongs buried themselves in the base of the vamp's spine, judging by the position, between two vertebrae. He howled and tried to claw at my arm but I easily avoided him. A female vamp shrieked for her friend and lunged at me from the left.

I rolled my eyes. Pushing on the shaft of my rake I distanced myself from the redhead vamp and ducked away from the female's fangs. I reached out and grabbed her shirt, using it to pull her down towards me. I slammed my head into hers once, then twice to daze her. She stumbled as I let go and switched to grabbing the hair at the base of her neck.

"Night-night, cupcake!" I chirped. Then I slammed her face into my knee and tossed my weight over her shoulder, sliding my arm around her neck. I pulled backward.

That blissful crack was the sound of her neck snapping. Jumping up and using the wall to gain some momentum, I twisted the vamp's head all the way around. It was easy with nothing but tissue and tendons in my way. Her body dangled limp from where I held her by the hair, so I opened my mouth, letting my fangs extend, and I bit her head off.

The redhead vamp with my rake still stuck in him cried out and tried in vain to reach me again. It was pathetic, really. Grinning, I wrenched the rake upward, severing the vamp's spinal cord and pulling the prongs along with two of his vertebrae straight through his back. He fell to the ground, paralyzed from the waist down because two of his bones were missing.

Just as I was about to remove his dreadful cranium from his miserable shoulders, one of the other vamps jumped at me, managing to rake his grotesquely long fingernails along my back. I released no cry of pain as he tore through my skin before grabbing me by my shoulders and hurtling my body at the wall. My face slammed against a pole built into the metal siding as the rest of my body just hit the wall. I landed on the ground with a jarring impact that I was sure had broken a few things. But I couldn't feel the pain. I was too focused on my rage. I was seeing red, and for the first time, I welcomed it without fear.

"Not so tough now are ya?" He called out.

My body was broken and yet I stood. I felt invincible.

"I know I'm not tough," I laughed. I wiped away the blood that was dripping from my mouth and nose, looking up to smile pleasantly at the vamp. "But you wanna know what I am?"

"What?"

"I'm insane, and that tends to make up for the rest."

The vamp charged me but I twisted around and Spartan kicked him into the wall. Then, using a few hay bails to step on, I vaulted into the air and brought the rake down on the vamp's head, piercing through his skull and embedding the prongs in his brain. The spray was a little gross but I didn't care. He deserved it.

"You're next, pumpkin," I called to the last vampire left standing in the room.

I crossed over to him and he managed to block my first two blows but then I smashed the blunt end of the rake into his face a few times and he was unconscious. I heard a groan and turned on my heel.

"And that brings us back to you, Boydie-Boo!" I cheered, stepping on the paralyzed vamp's hand as I passed him. I leaned over Boyd who was still on the ground, gasping for air. "Hello, sweetie. How are we today?"

All Boyd did was gasp and choke, he couldn't speak as his vocal cords had been stepped on.

"Aw! Did you get a boo-boo?" I pouted at him.

Then I grabbed Boyd by the throat at lifted him into the air. He struggled against my grasp but could do nothing. He couldn't even beg.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? Can't you scream for me?"

He shook his head and spat at me. So, I threw him into a wall. Boyd fought to stand, using the wall to stagger upright.

"Come on, Boyd! Fight! Are you going to let yourself be beaten by a girl?!" I taunted him and pulled on the fear that was already constricting his mind. Revenge felt so good.

"You-you're not a girl," He panted, "You're a monster!"

I hummed, tapping my chin with my finger.

"I guess history will have to be the judge of that, now won't it, buddy-Boyd?" I dragged my rake along the ground, though all the blood of his friends. There was a wonderful metallic grating noise as the prongs scrapped across the concrete.

"Please don't! Please! I'll do anything!" It felt good to hear him beg.

"Unfortunately," I continued, "I don't think you'll be around to plead your case!" I hefted the rake.

"No! PLEASE!"

"Bye-bye, Boydie-boo!"

I swung the rake upward with all my might and with a sickening crunch I rammed its prongs up through his jaw. I said I wanted him to suffer. Pulling him by the prongs in his face I brought his screaming form over to the tractor sitting at the back of the room. I rammed the shaft of the rake through two spokes of one of the tractor's wheels. All it took was the flip of a leaver to send the wheels spinning.

Turn, turn, turn and scream, scream, scream, then a nice snap, crackle, pop, and then suddenly, Boyd's head and body were two separate objects. I was very happy. Then, the random vamp I'd knocked out woke up and yanked on my hair, throwing me over his shoulder.

I tried to land on my feet but failed, tripping and stumbling backward. I landed on my back and scrambled to get up. As I did, I noticed the perfect white rose that Jack had given to me had fallen out of my hair. It lay on the ground in a pool of blood. Jack said it reminded him of me, of the way he saw me. Well, it wasn't innocent or perfect anymore. But neither was I, so I think it matched me better now.

The vamp rushed me and tackled me to the ground, pinning my arms to my sides as he snapped at me with his fangs out.

Bang... Bang!... CRASH!

The door burst open and light from the setting sun poured in, falling directly on the last vamp's face. He cried out and tried to scamper away, like a rat from a cat.

"It's about time! You guys are late to the party!" I shouted.

"Yeah, sorry!" Dean said from the doorway, "Who would've thought there were so many old sheds in this town!"

I didn't get a chance to reply.

I felt the air prickle and spark, charging with a tambour of power that I recognized but had yet to experience to this degree. I turned my head in time to see Jack, eyes glowing gold, passing by Dean with his hand outstretched. Golden waves of energy shot from his being with a sound like drumbeats from the depths of the sea. The waves caught the fleeing vampire and time around him slowed to a crawl. He was lifted into the air and revolved to face his reckoning. The Nephilim's lips tugged into a cruel grin as he saw the fear in the vampire's eyes.

Suddenly, the pulses of energy stopped and the vampire was flung towards Jack, landing face-first in the dirt at the boy angel's feet. Jack knelt down, his expression seeming to consider the trembling, pathetic thing in front of him.

"P-please!" The monster managed to choke out. "Mercy!"

Jack looked up at me, his eyes soaking in my bloodied face. Apparently, that was all it took. Jack's eyes hardened and he turned back to the vamp.

"You. Hurt. My. Friend."

Jack grabbed the vampire's head in his hands and started to squeeze. The vamp screamed as the pressure increased until his skull just couldn't take it anymore. There was a crunch and a wet sucking noise as the vamp's head collapsed in on itself. I liked that sound.

"That dude's still alive," I said, casually jabbing my thumb at the red-haired vamp I had paralyzed. Jack turned to where I had pointed, ready to squeeze another brain out of its shell.

"Jack!" Cas called from behind him. "No!"

The Nephilim scowled at Castiel and I admired the rage I saw in his eyes. This wasn't my Jack but I liked this version just as much. No, Jack wasn't human, was he? He was more like me than I'd thought. Jack snapped his fingers and the red-haired vamp crumbled into dust. The sight was actually sort of pretty.

When Jack turned to look at me his eyes were completely soft and full of concern. There was my Jack.

"Are you afraid of me now?" He asked in a whisper.

"No," I replied flatly, shrugging my shoulders, "Why would I be?"

"I killed them." Jack hung his head. "Right in front of you."

"Am I supposed to care?" I smirked, hoping my voice didn't sound as harsh as I thought it did. I was just barely beginning to come off my rage-induced high. Jack eyed me with confusion and relief.

"You're hurt," He observed, moving over to me.

"Me? Nah! This is nothing." I gestured at the bodies scattered around the shed. "You should see the other guys!"

"Stay still." Jack placed his soft, gentle, hands on my face to examine my injuries and I felt a warm tingling as he healed them. "There. I fixed you." He whispered. It was more to himself than anything but I still heard it. It made me laugh on the inside.

Yeah, no. Nothing could fix me. I was broken beyond repair. It was my insanity that held me together. Does that sound like the sort of thing that can be fixed?

"Thanks, Jack-Jack!" I chirped, smiling brightly at him.

"You're welcome, Marty," He said quietly. Jack's eyes flicked down, focusing on my lips like he wanted something but wasn't sure how to ask.

"Um, M-Marty?" Sam's voice broke whatever spell the two of us had been under and I glanced over to him.

"Yeah?"

"Did you, uh," Sam pointed to the carnage surrounding us, watching me with weary eyes. "Did you do this?"

I shrugged, jabbing my thumb over my shoulder at the tractor. "Yeah, mostly. But the tractor helped."

"I'm guessing the tractor did that?" Dean pointed to Boyd's head with its jaw still run through with the prongs of the rake. I walked calmly over to the severed head, grasping it by the hair and pulling it off the prongs before returning with it back to the boys. Sam, Dean, and Cas all stared at me with eyes as wide as quarters as held up the head.

"Dean, this is Boyd," I said, keeping my tone as sweet as possible.

"Huh."

"Say hi to Boyd."

"Uh...Hey, Boyd..."

"Good." I grinned as if I was holding a puppy instead of a severed head. "Now let me tell you about Boyd. Boyd liked touching things that didn't belong to him. He worked for Felix and Felix liked hearing little girls scream and cry. So did Boyd. Boyd was very good at making little girls scream and cry, little girls like me. Weren't you Boyd?" I asked the mutilated cranium in my hand. I moved the severed head up and down in an enthusiastic nod, holding it by the hair as if it was a marionet.

"You were very good, yes you were!" I cheered. Then, like the flip of coin, I snapped my focus back to the Winchesters, wiping my face and tone clean of all emotion.

"So, I used a tractor to rip his head off because he deserved it and now he won't ever make another little girl cry ever again. Right, Boyd?" I asked the severed head. I grabbed the head's bloody, splintered jaw and clacked it's teeth together like you would a ventriloquist dummy. "You bet your britches!" I made the head answer, mimicking Boyd's voice.

"D-did he-" Sam stuttered. I flicked my gaze back to him, allowing all three to see the harshness in my eyes.

"Whatever you're thinking, the answer is probably yes."

"Marty?"

I turned to Dean. "What?"

"Put the head down."

I dropped Boyd's severed head.

"Come here." The hunter opened his arms and I faked a sob before accepting the hug. "You weren't gonna tell us about that, were you?" I shook my head. "It's okay, sweetheart. You're safe now."

"Thank you for not throwing me away, Dean," I said softly. The elder Winchester chuckled.

"Don't thank me, Marty. After all, how could we throw away someone so Bad-Ass?"

"Am I awesome now?" I asked.

"You were always awesome."

I laughed and the Winchesters trusted me more than ever. Their mistake.

"Dean, that one's moving," Castiel called our attention over to Elwyn, who was just waking up.

Jack was quick to react, sending a golden blast of power to throw her against the wall where he kept her pinned.

"Wait! Wait!" She cried, "I didn' 'urt Mardina! I swear!"

"Do you work for Felix?" Dean interrogated, pushing me behind him.

"He's my fah'der but I'm not like him! I want du 'elp her! I jus a messenger!"

"Whaddia say, Sammy? Should we shoot the messenger?" Dean asked, keeping his cold eyes on Elwyn.

"No! Please!" Elwyn begged, tears slipping down her face. "I didn' 'urt her!"

"You know, if we shoot the messenger, Dean, it sends one Hell of a message." Like his brother, Sam could turn on the killer inside him like a switch.

"Felix is in Floree'ida, okay? Dat's all I know, I swear!" And it was all she knew because Elwyn had never had a backbone. There was no strength in her.

"Guess its up to you, Marty," Dean said, turning to me. Elwyn looked at me with wide pleading eyes. I regarded her with ice in my own. No second chances. Monsters don't get second chances, I know I never did. I knew I never would.

"I'm your friend, Mardina! Tell dem I'm your friend!" She pleaded. I shook my head.

"You only cared about me when Felix wasn't looking." I was almost shocked by how apathetic and passionless my voice sounded. I watched her without compassion. "You were never my friend."

"No!" Elwyn screeched, "No! I 'elped you! I 'elped you when dey beat you!"

"But you never tried to stop them."

"What?! No!" She sobbed. I smiled at her slightly.

"Go tell Madra I'm sorry."

I sent Jack a nod and with a snap of his fingers, Elwyn was nothing more than flecks of grey drifting to the ground.

Turning around with a sigh, I could feel the eyes of the four others as I bent down and scooped up the rose Jack had given me. I cradled the precious flower in my hands, watching as the blood dripped from its petals in big heavy gobs. It had been perfect once. It wasn't perfect anymore. It would never be perfect again. Or perhaps it could be, just not the right way. Because the blood was oddly beautiful with the way it stained the petals and pooled in the center of the rose.

"I can get you another one," Jack spoke up, "And I'll pay for it this time!"

I turned back to him, smiling down at my little rose.

"No, its okay, Jack. It's a crooked kind of perfect. I think I like it better now."

~All the pretty girls, they find

A way to keep you on my mind

I swear I heard you singing along

Cities pass like candy stores

And you're the one

I'm looking for

And so

I'm just a boy

Who's telling a girl

That when I grow up I'll buy you a rose

When I grow up, I'll buy you a rose~

Lyrics from: Buy You A Rose by AJR

(Author's Note: You may or may not have figured it out by now, but Martina Imogene Linville is insane. MARTY IS NOT THE HERO OF THIS STORY. SHE IS NOT A GOOD PERSON. Marty also had Borderline Personality Disorder before she went insane. So, even at her most stable points in this story, she is not to be trusted. Remember, she manipulates peoples emotions. She makes them feel what she wants them to feel. Any other character's actions may or may not actually be their own. Please keep this in mind going forward.)

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sungie · 4 years

Text

seo changbin ; stargazing

- - -

honestly, changbin is such a cutie

when he told you to bring a hoodie and dress somewhat warmly (or at least, like, bring a blanket just in case), you were a little concerned

considering one, it's night; and two, it's summer

but when changbin pulls up and the two of you are driving, he casually lets it slip that the two of you are gonna watch the stars because there’s been a meteor shower for the past few days and today’s the best day to view them (plus the sky isn’t cloudy tonight)

“binnie, you're so sweet”

changbin grumbles and brushes it off, but you can tell he's amused

when you finally get to the top of the hill, the two of you find a bench and changbin surprises you with a paper bag he managed to hide underneath his jacket and he’s brought fire noodles!!

you tease him because wow. changbin, ur really pulling all the stops today

we're being soft and you’re going to cry in front of me, i'm honored

changbin is so done with you, but he's laughing and just shakes his head

the two of you mix the bean paste together with the noodles because changbin was an angel and prepped everything before, and so armed with a pair of chopsticks, you and changbin both take huge bites

and the two of you are laughing so much because it’s so good but after a while, god, it gets spicy

but because you don't wanna miss the stars from slightly watery eyes, you pull out a couple of pastries you brought along with you just in case

they’re from the bakery right across the street where jeongin’s “friend” works, and the pastries are wrapped in pretty packaging and taste heavenly

and plus, going on night time adventures with your best friend is pretty much a common occurrence, so you had to be prepared for dessert

you hand one to changbin, and boy, does it look like he could kiss you right now and then

he’s just so happy because he loves this bakery so much

while the two of you are eating your food, one bite of pastry, one bite of fire noodles, he can't stop cracking jokes and nudging your side

changbin’s so funny, what the hell, he always makes you laugh and clutch your sides

and as the two of you finally just lean your heads back and stare at the sky, hoping to see anything, there's a confused silence between the two of you because okay, the stars are pretty, sure, but it's nothing new and there are definitely no meteors

at least, not any that you see

as if he can read your mind, changbin gives you a look and the two of you both sit up when a little kid starts screaming a distance away and starts tugging on his mom’s sleeve that he’s seen a meteor, five of them!

changbin and you look at each other blankly

"am i going blind, or what"

"me too bin, me too"

you and changbin just are the most iconic duo, really, the rest of changbin’s friends will legit not hang out with the two of you alone because you’re both so in tune to each other and have so many inside jokes and make everyone else feel like a third wheel (ft. felix crying in the corner i lost my best friend hgghhh)

so you two start being annoying

it started with you nudging changbin in the ribs, and then him kicking your knee cap, and then you whacking his shoulder, and then him tickling your neck

and then you both completely start ignoring the stars, just both staring up at the night sky and singing a random song to the stars in a sort of offering

and considering changbin writes his own songs, this is just embarrassing

you two are laughing so much and then get bored with singing and turn this stargazing into dare or dare but with a twist

"if you move across the sky, then i'll streak across the park!"

"if you send down a meteor, then i'll steal hyunjin's favorite shirt!"

"if you show yourself, i'll pretend i don’t know who minho's cats are!"

you’re both so dumb and stupid right now, like how are you two both sober, but you can't stop laughing

and changbin goes, "if a meteor comes, then i'll confess to the person i like"

and changbin literally does this to spite you because he will not tell you who he likes despite so much badgering

and bitch,, there’s a fucking meteor that darts quickly across the sky

it’s so fast that it’s just a bright white line that traces across the sky and then disappears, but it’s definitely a meteor

funnily enough, the little kids a while away are dead silent and did not see it

you start howling with laughter

baby changbin isn't baby anymore, he's growing up

you start rolling him over and shaking him, lovingly, “the stars have spoken, now take out your phone and confess, loser”

changin's so embarrassed, like for a second you almost feel bad

but it’s his fault for tempting the star gods

when you look back at changbin his cheeks are flushed, and he’s rubbing the back of his neck

"now? you want me to confess now?"

oh my god

“yes, changbin, grow some balls and do it! do it, be there or be square”

and changbin just laughs a little, and doesn’t even make a motion to take out his phone

and then he meets your eyes and murmurs a self-explanatory, "i like you."

"okay, yeah, yeah, i like you, too,, oh my god you snake i already know you like me, now don't be sneaky, confess"

for a moment, changbin just stares at you blankly

he looks so confused and he’s just staring at you with furrowed brows and his eyes are kind of flickering back and forth like he can’t quite understand what’s going on

“what?”

“take out your phone and confess,” you say simply. “you’ve got to go through with your dare.”

and then, what you say catches up to him, and changbin starts laughing.

he’s so amused, and when you groan at him, he just laughs more

and maybe, now, he’s just a little eager to see your reaction when he says, "i already did"

your mouth drops open

“are you for real?”

changbin just shrugs, seriously regretting his decisions, because this is definitely not the reaction he thought he’d get from confessing

he's kind of embarrassed, and debates whether he should crawl into himself and disappear, but then he simply lets out a breath and turns to you.

"yeah. i like you. so, let me know if you like me too, or whatever."

or whatever, oh my god

you're finally getting it through your head, and you can't stop grinning

and then you lean forward and plant a kiss on changbin's lips

"i like you too!"

and honestly, you’re not going to lie, you were getting pretty nervous when he said he was going to confess, and now that you know he's confessing to you, well, you're over the moon

“so i guess we have that friends to lovers thing, huh?” you tease, poking him in the cheek lightly. “now you’re morally obligated to compliment me.”

“okay,” changbin says, staring directly at you, “i just saw the brightest star. it’s prettier than all the others, too.”

you can feel the heat rising to your face and you just whack him lightly in the arm, “you’re so cheesy.”

“you just can’t handle compliments”

“hey, take that back” :((

changbin just smiles at you and lets you rest your head against his shoulder, his arm wrapping around you

“i can be cheesy, too, you know,” you murmur into his ear

changbin laughs, fully not believing you. “go for it.”

“who took the stars out of the sky and put them in your eyes?”

changbin self destruct

so gone

literally so blushy and embarrassed

but you get a kiss on your eyelid in response

- -

continue on your journey?

#changbin #seo changbin #changbin hc #changbin reactions #changbin fluff #changbin x reader #changbin x you #changbin headcanons #skz headcanons #skz hc #seo changbin x reader #seo changbin fluff #skz fluff

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elleroodles · 2 years

Note

hi el! it feels like so long since I’ve sent one of these messages! I hope you’re doing well (that snow looked absolutely lovely). today’s music rec is the album fishmonger by underscores! I discovered it literally today but i think you might enjoy it- I’m not sure how to categorize the genre but it’s definitely weird electronic something. I am in the finals pit right now but listening to it made me feel happy this morning (even if the music itself isn’t that happy haha) so I hope you like it as well 💕

hi thea!! it is lovely to see u with a song rec in the inbox, ik i've been sitting on this ask for a while now BUT that means i have had time to give it a few listens and i very much agree with the inability to define a genre (i saw someone on rate your music describe it as an offshoot of hyperpop which is accurate i think? it's sounds i love sounds). my favorite tracks were spoiled little brat and the fish song. i like the title of the fish song a lot. keeps it real. ty for the intriguing music rec! checking out their other 2021 album as i type! also i took the opportunity to give you a few music recs of my own because i love this little exchange tradition we have, one of my favorite parts of this platform easy. also also i hope finals went/are going very well! i have either a 'you got this!' or a 'you did it!' depending on when you read this! and a <3 regardless!!

i've put a cut here so now i feel like i have to deliver a tonal shift as well but WHATEVER! i have been looping woman on the internet lately and i dig it so much and wanted to tell u since you are the resident orla gartland enjoyer in my life. i'm pretty sure the album is a no skip for me but i like you're not special babe a lottt. now that that is off my chest here's the (drumroll) music

shiny little corners - kuinka: i think i've brought this album up enough that you might've already heard of it (plus i think all mine was the sotd for like. two weeks) but i will take the opportunity to gush! it's like. pastel folk. maybe i'm just saying that cause i'm looking at the album cover right now but the sound is very bright and refreshing for the folk scene and according to my sister who saw them live almost every member of the band has a song with lead vocals which leads to some songs that i like better than others in terms of singing n stuff but it's such a cool arrangement! not to mention there's like. rock ukulele. if that's not tempting idk what is. my favorite tracks are all mine and ny, la :D

tear jerky - sparky deathcap: (as far as i know this ep isn't out on any streaming services so the link's just to a yt playlist!) ok so. sparky deathcap. take like every sound at once and make it british and kinda confusing but also this is probably one of my favorite things ever created. it's pretty short (5 tracks technically, i added cosmic love infection because i like it) and most everyone who knows it knows it because they watched a wilbur soot stream before december 11th 2020 but it is certainly sounds. i'd love to know how many instruments were used to make it. i think the best way to describe the sound is if jake ewald started slaughter beach, dog when he was still in modern baseball and british. that is a bad comparison but alas. surely one of the most eps ever

home video - lucy dacus: i am so late to the lucy dacus scene but! ever since i listened to thumbs i've had the innate need to tell everyone i know about it! hot & heavy is such a good album opener and then it just goes into christine which is so. sapphic and sad and up until hearing this album i only knew lucy dacus from boygenius and did not realize how much i loved her voice from listening to that band wowie! anyways whenever i start ending sentences with exclamation marks i feel weird going back to periods so ignore how excited i seem about this incredibly sad album! thumbs is one of the best songs ever! joins the holy trilogy of songs about dad murder (alongside father by the front bottoms and kyoto by phoebe bridgers)! again the exclamation marks are throwing me off but i'm dealing with it!

let's get out of this country - camera obscura: this is a last minute addition but when i saw ur ask about agreeing with the sotd (piazza, new york catcher) i remembered camera obscura existed bc i discovered this album through itune's 'more like dear catastrophe waitress' this contributes nothing to the listening experience but i thought it was fitting and i've only listened through this album like twice so i don't have much to say about it but i do really like lloyd, i'm ready to be heartbroken which i'm pretty sure went the 2006 equivalent of viral but i was too busy being a youngin to notice Anyways that song bangs this is more of an anecdote than a rec but i'm trying to see how far i can take this run-on sentence

speed round (quite literally. i set a timer for five minutes):

things better left unsaid - deanna gowland: discovered this song through a twitch starting soon screen it's rather jazzy and pretty

no more shame, no more fear, no more dread - ajj: this song has been stuck in my head for like a week i think i'm cursed. it's really good tho

big brat - phantom planet: fun little rock song i remembered existed while rewatching coveted comfort movie the amazing spider-man 2012. one of that movie's better soundtrack moments (the coldplay skateboarding montage did not hit like i remembered!)

caring is creepy - the shins: once i get the 2012 nostalgia i cannot stop this is maybe the second best shins song ever. good soup either way

torch song - laura stevenson: this song confuses me and i like it so much

knee deep at atp - los campesinos!: this might have shown up in a thea song rec post before but alas! it's so good! i've been listening to hold on now, youngster a bunch lately and it always goes hard

first love / late spring - mitski: everyone and their mother knows this song but it's never a bad time to listen to it methinks. banger!

you will. you? will. you? w <- my timer ran out here but i'm leaving this because it amuses me. that is all thank u for the read! i got a bit more rambly today (it is late i am sleepy) but hopefully it's all comprehensible enough! as always i love hearing from u about whatever, very much looking forward to our next drawtectives watch party :^)

#thea!! thank u for the ask!!#something else i forgot to mention about fishmonger that i really liked the flow it had #stood out to me compared to other semi hyperpop semi indie pop albums i've heard that are kinda similar #it's hard to box it into a genre regardless LOL #but the bit about it making you feel happy was very nice to hear i did a good ol irl :) when i read that #i am going to go off to bed now the sleepies are catching up 2 me #i hope ur day/night/morning/afternoon is going swimmingly! (get it. bc. fishmonger. hha)#woo i am too proud of that joke. off to bed for me #thea tag #(i don't know much about phonetics but maybe that's the appeal to the phrase thea tag? good words?)#ask #andywyatt

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okaywitheverything · 3 years

Text

Konoha X Reader ♡1

A/N: So I’ve been really inactive I know but its because I have a lot of tests coming up. Here is fun series I wrote long ago which is sort of everybody flirting with you in Konoha. Hope you like it. Here’s part one of three.

"Yeah, it would be a nice change of space. I've been cooped in one place for far too long I feel. I've always had a nick for travelling and exploring." You answered with an adorable smile on your face.

"Is that the only reason? Pardon me for questioning you but I need to be completely sure about approving your request to move here to Konoha. I can't take any duty of mine lightly."

"Nothing less would be expected of you Hokage-sama. You truly are as intellectual, perceptive and ingenious as people say."

The Third Hokage laughed lightly at this. "As flattered as I am dear, I am not cutting you any slack." He replied smugly.

"I'm an okay Jounin-level kunoichi that feels the urge to start anew. Oh come on, I'm not an assassin in disguise! I could have fooled you if I actually wanted to." You replied as serious you could, slightly staring at him to try and intimidate him.

Don't think it's working at all.

"I'm actually in a disguise right now."

That's seemed to have caught him off guard. You smirked a little. "You haven't even checked my ID yet. The photo it has right now, doesn't match my current self. Wait! Don’t peek! Let's make this interesting. You'll see my abilities as a ninja as well. What do you say?"

Tempting the Hokage was probably not a good idea, but you have never been one to shy away from risks.

"Oh I'm not doubting your ability of deception. Say what, that door leads to a bathroom. If you manage to amaze me with a different disguise that matches whatever is in your ID, I'll let you move here, no more questions asked." He said, propping on his elbows, leaning forward. This old man was surely fun, you had to give him that.

"Alright, give me five minutes."

You looked at your appearance right now. Really big dorky glasses that hid your beautiful features under its frame. A really tight braid with middle parting of your hair. You looked oh-so-nerdy right now. But only you knew that on the removal of these two things, your entire appearance did a one eighty degree. And that's what you intended to do as of right now.

You looked at yourself with awe in the mirror. You never bragged about your appearance or thought of yourself as superior to basically anyone.

But you weren't one to willingly drag yourself down, you remained confident with whatever you wore, whatever you had. Sure everyone had bad days, but to make a routine out of it? That was not you. Right now, your beautiful (h/c) tresses cascaded down your body to (whatever your hair length is).

Your cherry pink lips glossed more as you reapplied the lip balm. Your (favourite colour) blouse was the one thing that remained the same. You swapped your baggy pants with a similar (favourite colour) skirt that reached your mid thigh that matched your painted nails. You had removed your glasses already and replaced it with contacts. (Or just removed if you don't need contacts)You were thankful for all the accessories you kept in your (favourite colour) purse in case you needed to party anytime.

But you really outdid yourself by taking out matching heels from the bag and replacing your flats.

Guess the female purse is really a mystery.

You readied yourself and stepped out.

Go big or go home, right?

The Hokage looked up from some documents he was checking and Kami, you could have sworn you saw blood trickling down his nose. You instantly grew worried, was he having a seizure?

You then saw him frantically grabbing your folder and snatching out your ID. His widened eyes darted back and forth from the photo on the ID to your confused face.

"Are you going to say something?" You said after few minutes of silence.

"I think I need to check the bathroom to see if you swapped places with someone. As shocked as I am to admit this, I was totally not expecting that. Keeping my end of the deal, as you have truly amazed me, I can only hope this will help our undercover missions. Anyways, welcome to Konoha!" The Third replied with a grin, a narrow strip of blood still gushing down.

You responded with another charming smile of yours. However, before you could say something, the door abruptly opened revealing a large man with really long white hair and a lady close behind who had beautiful golden locks."Hokage-sama, did you hear about Oro- Oh! Hello there. I don't believe we have met. I'm Jiraiya, a renowned writer and appreciator of beauty and grace. And you seem just the kind of elegant lady that I was looking for."

The man started but changed his composure entirely when his eyes met yours mid sentence. You tilted your head in slight confusion and saw the lady behind him come ahead while smacking the back of his head. However, as soon as she saw you, a slight pink tinted her cheeks.

Maybe at the embarrassment of realising someone else's presence?You wondered.

"Hello I'm Tsunade. I haven't seen you around, you seem new." With pink cheeks, she put her hand forward which you gladly accepted giving her a small smile.

"Yes, I arrived here today. I'm (Your first name) (Your last name)." You replied.

You didn't realise at what point exactly did the white haired man had moved to the corner of the room during your conversation. You saw him squatted down, vigorously writing down something and mumbling incoherent words along the lines of 'new characters initials will be (your initials)'.

What surprised you was the river of blood gushing down his nose, blood almost thrice the amount you witnessed on Hokage's face earlier.

He seriously looked like he was about to pass out.

Is the weather here really this hot and cruel? Good thing I'm wearing a mini skirt right now.

You came out of your thoughts when you heard knuckles cracking quite loudly and saw Tsunade glaring at Jiraiya that he totally ignored as his eyes only travelled between your face and his book.

The Hokage, about whom you had completely forgotten until now stood beside Jiraiya, leaning to read what he wrote, giggling like a lovestruck teen.

"Is this how you are supposed to behave?!" Tsunade pulled Jiraiya up by his ear, and to be honest she even scared you. "And you sensei, supporting him like that?!" She continued and you praised her confidence and unwavering voice.

If you hadn't witnessed the scene, you would never believe she was talking to The Lord Third.

The Third sheepishly scratched his neck, embarrassment coating his cheeks. You felt you should excuse yourself before the situation escalated to another level. "If my request is approved, I'd like to look around the Village." You said moving towards the door. "Let me assist you with that. I know all the exclusive spots in the vill- Oww ow what?!" You heard Jiraiya exclaim from the corner.

"Have you forgotten about the important matters we came to discuss here? It's not like I'd rather stay here than show her pretty ass around but we have some duties." Tsunade said making you blush.

'Pretty ass' caught you off guard. Both the curse and the compliment.

You grabbed your folders and put them inside your purse and headed out, not before flashing a bright cheeky smile to all the three people in the room as you heard Tsunade say, "We hope to see you around soon."

The two guards outside almost didn't recognise you as the same girl who entered the office. They exchanged quizzical glances while all you could wonder was how could they let Jiraiya and Tsunade intrude like that. Maybe because it was an emergency. You gave them both genuine smiles and shrugged to yourself while moving to find the exit.

This wasn't how you planned on exiting and roaming, in such a short skirt but you had no choice because of the intrusion in the office. You didn't mind though, Konoha seems to intrigue you in a good way and you found yourself excited to explore, looking like a total bomb in that sleek, sexy (favourite colour) outfit of yours.

A/N: this was just some meaningless drabble of sorts. Hope you enjoyed.

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fancifulwhump · 4 years

Note

i'm LIVING for your jaskier fics omg!! would you be at all interested in writing a prompt where Jaskier is riding Roach because he's not feeling well, but Geralt doesn't realize how bad the fever really is until he falls off? (if that's not interesting or too specific, I can try again! no pressure to write this!)

anonymous asked: would LOVE to see a sick Jaskier with a cold while they’re traveling, and how Geralt would treat him being feverish and sniffly/how Jaskier would complain lol

AN: absolutely! so sorry this took a hot second, but here you guys go --- hope you enjoy! ;)

The language of Jaskier is above all a loud one... but just as subtle as any beast’s dialect, filled with intricacies and rhythms that Geralt cannot help taking note of the more he listens. It’s really not the same thing, of course. Non-speaking monsters really can’t use their words; they have no way to express how they feel, except by eating you. Jaskier hasn’t tried to do that. Yet. (Sometimes the way he eyes Geralt in the bath leaves him feeling the day’s not far off.)

To the contrary — if anything, Jaskier is too verbal. He doesn’t know how to shut up.

Getting used to this took longer than Geralt would have liked. It also demanded considerably more patience than he realized he had. Somehow, staking out a monster’s lair for days in complete silence is bearable... but Sitting through one of Jaskier’s endless rambles is asking too much. Even Witchers can only endure so much.

“Do you ever shut up?” Geralt demanded one day, cutting off the motor-mouthed fool in the middle of another tangent.

Jaskier blinked at him, as though seriously considering the question, then shrugged. “Not a talent of mine, really.”

Miraculously, he did, for a moment. Despite all his instincts screaming to the contrary, Geralt nearly allowed himself to believe his outburst had worked... until Jaskier steppes on a twig, just a bit too loudly, then said, “I was asked the very same thing in bed not too long ago, actually, by this glorious milkmaid — granted, her accent was too thick to make out a word, so she might have been asking me to pass her my ruddy lute, who knows. But she was very enthusiastic —“

And that started him up all over again. Damn the gods.

In spite of it all, Geralt would be lying if he claimed to hate Jaskier’s blathering too much. Sometimes it’s... unique, not being constantly surrounded by silence. He wouldn’t call it nice, not be a long shot, but... it isn’t altogether unpleasant. Jaskier can make for entertaining company in his better moods, and he does keep things interesting. A routine pack of wargs can turn into a colorful job, so long as Jaskier is along to elaborate on it later. Geralt doubts he cuts such a striking figure “swinging his sword to the leaping beast’s belly”, as Jaskier’s latest gig claims, but...

Sometimes, it is nice not to be surrounded by silence. Even if that means putting up with Jaskier’s mouth more than he would like.

Case in point:

“Geralt.” A whine, then a cough, then a passionate sniffle. “Can we slow down? Please? I’ve asked thrice already —“

Four times. Geralt’s been counting.

Gritting his teeth, he urges Roach a bit faster, conscious of the sound of struggling bard trailing a bit behind him. Jaskier makes no effort to be discreet when he moves, so Geralt can hear everything in perfect detail. The crunch of twigs beneath his heavy feet; the strain of his breaths, a bit more labored than they should be, a bit more congested; the way his chest rattles when he launches into another coughing fit. Even with a nasty cold, Jaskier’s loud.

“Just because I can’t catch it,” says Geralt once the latest fit has passed, “doesn't mean you need to cough on me.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I’ll be sure to aim my dying gasps towards the wilderness next time.” Backtalk is a talent Jaskier can’t help himself honing, even sick as a dog. His brows, foreword with childish petulance, draw even tighter together as he wraps both arms around himself, hunching in. A shiver courses through him; Geralt distinctly hears the rattle of chattering teeth. The second Jaskier catches his eyes lingering, however, he plays up his misery for the perceived audience, pouting and wiping at his face. Geralt rolls his eyes, looking away.

Geralt understands the patterns of many beasts, but Jaskier’s language was one of the easiest to learn. The Law of Jaskier: as long as he’s talking, he’s fine.

And he hasn’t stopped talking since early this morning. No, not talking — complaining. Gods help him, Jaskier hasn’t stopped complaining.

He still stubbornly follows Geralt out on the road, however; in spite of his red nose and phelmgy cough, Jaskier refuses to be left behind. It wouldn’t be the first time he chose to linger in a particular village which Geralt went on ahead, but Jaskier insisted the last one one didn’t appeal to him — “Everyone looks half-starved there. No wonder, the food tastes like shit. At midnight I half-expect them all to gather into a mob, hunt down the nearest visiting bard, and fry him on a spit. I have just enough meat on my bones, Geralt, but I wouldn’t be tasty —“

That rant devolved into a coughing fit that left Jaskier doubled over on the side of the road for five minutes, gasping and heaving. Geralt actually had to stop and wait for him. By the time Jaskier recovered, raising himself shakily up from his knees on the dirt road, he looked a mess. His face was bright red, tears lingering at the corners of his eyes; his chest still heaved. That was the moment any sensible person would have turned back… but Jaskier simply steeled himself and carried on.

Fool of a bard, Geralt thinks now, listening to Jaskier’s heavy footsteps behind them. He’s lagging, slowing them both down. His scent has picked up something unfamiliar, an edge of sour sweetness that can only be a fever. At least he’s walking on his own… but he’s not walking fast, is the thing, and they have to walk fast if they want to reach the next town before nightfall. As it is, the prospect looks doubtful; Jaskier has slowed them enough already.

“As soon as we find a bed, I’m collapsing in it —“ Jaskier pauses to sniff again, and clear a hoarse throat. “Then not getting out for a year. A year, Geralt. You’ll have to — drag me by my feet or something.”

“Something,” Geralt agrees, his mind flashing to images of swords and steel. Oh, he’d get the damned bard out of bed.

The trail gets rougher as they make their way further into the mountains. Even Geralt stumbles in places, and he’s built for this sort of travel. He’s wearing the boots for it. Jaskier is distinctly neither of these things. As Geralt’s must focus more of his attention on their way forward, he almost misses what’s going on behind him — the harshness of his companion’s breaths growing more and more labored, the way Jaskier’s coughs pick up force and frequency, the times he must stop — physically stop — to sneeze or hack his lungs out. Geralt tries to ignore it. He really does. But the fact that he almost manages, for about fifteen minutes, is what alerts him to a much more alarming fact.

Jaskier has stopped complaining.

As soon as Geralt realizes this, he jerks to a halt on the trail. Roach follows his lead… but Jaskier, his head down, doesn’t notice. Instead, he walks straight into Roach’s backside, nearly toppling off his feet.

“Agh — damn it, Geralt.” Even his indignation sounds listless. “Give a man warning next time, will you?”

“How,” asks Geralt, through gritted teeth, “do you feel?”

Jaskier blinks, appearing to weigh the likelihood that his companion is genuinely concerned or just annoyed. Whatever he decides, he isn’t wrong. Instead of offering an answer, he makes an inarticulate ‘hmm-mmm’, shrugging his shoulders. Geralt’s hard gaze bores into him. Jaskier shrinks under it. After a moment, the pressure grows too much; he breaks. “My head is pounding, to be honest. Feels… dizzy. I don’t know. It’s cold out here.”

“You have a fever,” Geralt observes.

Jaskier raises his eyebrows, then laughs softly, like he’s not surprised. “Right, yep, that makes sense. Figures you know me better than I do…”

He breaks off into another fit of coughing, which leaves his entire body quaking. Geralt has to actually grab his shoulder to steady him, just in case Jaskier should tumble over. As soon as he’s regained some kind of composure, though, Jaskier pulls away.

“I’ll be fine.” This time, there isn’t a trace of whine in his voice; he isn’t scraping the barrel for pity, but being deadly serious. “Not too long to the next village anyways, is it? I can make it.”

Geralt eyes him for a long moment, weighing the likelihood of getting there in a reasonable amount of time with Jaskier lagging behind. It’s not good. They’ve been making poor time as it is, because he’s had to slow his pace for the damned bard, but Geralt would prefer not to camp along the road overnight. (Because he doesn’t feel like sleeping on hard ground; not because Jaskier in his current state needs a warm bath and bed. Absolutely not.)

He sighs through his teeth. “Get on the horse.”

“What?”

Either Jaskier’s fever is high enough that he can no longer comprehend the common tongue, or he really is an idiot. “The horse,” Geralt emphasizes, patting Roach’s hindquarters in preemptive apology. “If you ride her, we may make it to the nearest village before nightfall.”

This is the one and only time Geralt has ever offered his precious horse; Jaskier knows this, as well as he knows this chance will never come around again. Maybe he’s just an opportunist. Maybe the promise of a roof over his head is that tempting. Either way, Jaskier doesn’t weigh his options for long before doing the sensible thing and getting on the damn horse.

Roach whinnies, making her displeasure at the entire situation clear. Jaskier isn’t helping matters, a dead weight on her back. The horse stamps her hooves, shuffling in dismay, but a look from Geralt chastises her. For the moment, getting the bard out of the woods will have to be more important than her dignity.

No, Geralt doesn’t like it either. One look at Jaskier’s face, though — the hollow-eyed pallor, and the distance, as though he’s drifted out to sea already — reminds him why it is necessary.

This time around, they are able to set a much faster pace. Roach keeps up, just as Geralt knew she would, even carrying the burden that is Jaskier. The sick man doesn’t help his case; rather than ride, Jaskier has both arms braces against Roach’s neck, clearly focused on just keeping his balance. There’s a precarious list to his posture which Geralt keeps an eye on, but he doesn’t actually fall; every time it seems like he might, he rights himself, and a new dawn of clarity rises over his face. It lasts only a moment, of course, before fading away… but it’s something.

It isn’t long before the woods begin to thin out. Geralt tracks their location by the trees, and by the hues of purple and gold beginning to blend together on the horizon. They haven’t far to go, and enough time to do it. Unless they run into any roaming monsters on the way…

He takes his eyes off Jaskier, and there’s the mistake. He forgets. When Jaskier was complaining, at least he was present; by airing his grievances he ensured that he could not be ignored. This quiet Jaskier is a foreign one, and Geralt isn’t used to him. So, he makes a mistake. He looks away, and doesn’t look back… until a gruesome thud echoes from behind him.

Geralt stops dead in his tracks. Roach lets out a distressed whinny. Jaskier says nothing at all.

“Fuck!” Geralt hisses, rushing back to the bard’s crumpled body. Face-down in the dirt, Jaskier makes no attempt to pull himself up. When Geralt hauls him upright with both hands on his shoulders, Jaskier groans, head lolling against his own chest.

Mud stains his cheeks, and a bruise is sure to form where he hit the ground hard. Even when Geralt seizes his face, though — and damn it, he’s on fire, worse than Geralt thought — Jaskier proves incapable of focusing. An incoherent murmur passes through parted lips. It does exactly nothing to alleviate Geralt’s minor panic.

“Jaskier! Wake up!” Is he even asleep? Geralt can’t tell. “Say something!”

He means it, and the realization comes as an icy shock — never did he imagine he’d ever miss the bard’s incessant prattling. Yet in the sudden absence of Jaskier’s voice, silence rings louder than ever, and it’s smothering Geralt to death. He should have seen this, should have known, should have realized, damn it —

“Jaskier,” he hisses, hauling his companion to his feet. The full weight of Jaskier’s limp body melts against his own. When Jaskier’s burning forehead falls against Geralt’s shoulder, he shrugs, trying to rouse him… but nothing does the job. Even when Geralt, grumbling furiously, is forced to haul Jaskier back up onto Roach and leap up after him, the fever permits Jaskier to do little more than melt against him. His head lolls, eyes half-open and staring into nothing. Worse than it all, he is completely silent.

For once in his life, Geralt misses the damned bard’s complaining.

#the witcher #sickfic #jaskier #taylortut

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when-they-write-stuff · 4 years

Note

Any prompt? :P OK then how about 14 & 46 together? Hehe, you don't have to. I just liked these the most and I'm curious how they would work together in one of your fics :D

“You have no idea who I am, do you?” & “It’s pitch black and I can still see you blushing.”

- -

Stiles blamed the witch.

It seemed like whenever something went wrong in Beacon Hills, it was the fault of a witch. Sometimes warlocks too, but they seemed to avoid Beacon Hills a lot more often. But the witches, man. They were always there.

Looming.

The point is, this was the fault of a witch. And Stiles was so done.

He was feeling pretty handy with a baseball bat about three seconds before he was blasted into a tree. At second one, Stiles was racing across the field with a battle cry in his throat. A second two, he was being flung back by a blast of light to his chest. And at second three, all he knew was pain.

Stiles blamed the witch. It was all her fault.

Then all he knew was black.

Stiles wasn’t a stranger to waking up in odd places.

When he was a kid, he used to fall asleep on the couch and wake up in his bed. When he was in middle school, he fell asleep at Scott’s and woke up in a tree. In his freshman year of high school, he was dared to stakeout the girl’s locker room and woke up in the principal’s office. The point is, Stiles was used to experiencing odd things.

He wasn’t expecting to wake up and find a strange man looming over him, though.

“Woah, holy fuck, dude! Stranger danger! Invasion of my personal bubble! Someone call the cops!”

The guy looked extremely irritated as he backed off. Someone else came into view; and Stiles nearly melted in relief as he recognized his best friend.

“Oh my god,” he said. “Scott. Scott. Dude, I swear to god, if I fell asleep in your tree again, it was a complete accident and I didn’t mean to—” Except that wasn’t Scott. Yeah, it had his face and his adorable puppy eyes, but nothing else. Nothing.

Because Scott was a lot smaller. His hair was a lot fluffier. And what the hell was with the newly acquired muscles?

“Uh, dude?” Scott said, taking a cautious step forward. Stiles squawked and shoved himself up, realizing he was on a metal table and surrounded by other people he didn’t recognize. His heart pounded at a hundred miles an hour and he dug his nails into his palm, trying to force back a panic attack.

“Guys,” Scott said. “He’s panicking. Everyone back up.”

“D-do we know these people? Do I know these people?”

“He’s finally lost it,” a blonde-haired girl said. Stiles blinked at her and then squinted. Because that was— no, it couldn’t be. There was no way.

“Erica Reyes?”

“Yeah,” a curly-haired boy next to her said. Upon recognition, Stiles didn’t know what the hell Isaac Lahey was doing here. Or how the guy even knew who Stiles was. “He’s lost it.”

“He hasn’t lost anything,” a gruffer voice said. It was scary ‘no sense of personal space’ dude, Stiles realized, cringing back slightly. “Deaton said his memory has been reset a few years. He should be fine in twenty-four hours.”

Stiles blinked at him. Scary ‘no sense of personal space’ dude was also kind of hot, if Stiles was being honest. And his eyebrows were a bit of a turn on. Stiles gaped at his own mind and shook his head, before glaring at him. Derek didn’t look impressed, though.

“You have no idea who I am, do you?”

“He doesn’t recognize Derek,” Erica said, looking positively gleeful. “That’s gold.”

“Shut up,” Derek said, looking grumpy at that. “Stiles, what’s the last thing you remember? What year is it?”

“What year— what year is it? Dude, is this some kind of joke? Have I been pranked? Scott, I swear to god, this lost all it’s humor the second I woke up and realized sexy-brows wasn’t a gay-awakening dream.”

Derek straightened at that and Erica let out a bark of laughter. Scott looked a little horrified and Stiles swallowed hard, trying to ignore how hot his face was getting. He didn’t know this asshole, so why did it matter what he said?

“Stiles,” Scott said. “Do you remember sophomore year?”

“Fuck yeah, dude, we’re sophomores!”

“Oh my god,” Isaac said. “Stilinski, how old do you think you are?”

Stiles stared at him. Then he looked down at his hands and over the rest of his body. Everything seemed accurately proportioned. Except, he was a lot musclier than he remembered. Stiles rubbed a hand over his forehead and then yelped when he realized he had hair.

“Scott! My buzzcut!”

“Fuck,” Erica breathed, looking at him like Stiles was the most amazing thing she’d ever seen. Then, she doubled over with laughter. “He thinks he’s sixteen!”

Thinks? Thinks?

Stiles looked from older-Scott, to grumpy sexy-brows, and then down at his hands again, and realized something was very wrong. Something was very wrong and Stiles had no idea what.

“Shit.”

“I’ll believe a lot of things,” Stiles said, pacing his room back and forth. “But werewolves are not one of them, Scott. I’m not an idiot. I don’t believe in fairy tales.”

Scott sat on the edge of his bed and looked anywhere but Stiles’s face. Narrowing his eyes, Stiles dropped into the chair at his desk and studied him.

“You’re hiding something from me. What are you hiding from me?”

“Werewolves were actually your idea in the first place,” Scott said carefully. “When I got bit.”

“I… what?”

“It was actually right,” Scott said. “But it took a few learning curves.”

“Learning curves? Dude! Have you killed anyone?”

“No, of course not!”

“Huh,” Stiles said, lacing his fingers together and resting them underneath his chin. “Show me, then. The whole werewolf thing.”

“Are you sure?”

“Scotty, I have recently been told I am eighteen years old. Which means I’m a man. A man who can totally take whatever you about to— oh my god!”

Stiles leaped up, stumbling away from his chair as Scott’s face morphed to something grotesque and his eyes turned a vibrant shade of red. Fangs poked at his upper lip, his fingernails were claws, and there was no way that was right. Or real. This was a fever dream, it had to be.

“Stiles?” Scott said, voice warbled by his fangs. “Are you okay, man?”

“Y-yeah, man, I’m just… adjusting. I’m adjusting.”

Scott’s face turned back to normal, but Stiles couldn’t get that image from his head. He stayed in the corner and watched his best friend for a moment. If this was a fever dream, Scott couldn’t hurt him, right? Everything was going to be fine.

“So,” Stiles said, moving carefully back into his chair. “Does this mean I have yet to get with Lydia?”

“Lydia?”

“Yeah, dude, Lydia Martin. Strawberry-blonde hair, gorgeous green eyes, literally everything I’ve ever wanted in a woman.”

“Oh,” Scott said, wincing. “No.”

Stiles deflated. “Not even in five to ten years? What about my ten-year plan?”

“You’ve kinda ditched that,” Scott said. “For Derek.”

“For Derek?”

There was a sudden tap on his window and Stiles yelped, flailing out of his chair as he spotted the man crouched on the roof outside. Scott gave him a worried look and got up, crossing the room to pull it open. Stiles managed to push himself up right as Derek climbed in, giving him a judgemental looking eyebrow.

“What about me?”

“Oh my god, nothing,” Stiles said, retreating backward. “Absolutely nothing. Nothing about you or your sexy looking— your eyebrows.”

Derek stared at him. Scott laughed nervously and stepped between them. “Right, uh. Thanks for taking over, man.”

Derek just grunted. Stiles blinked at the two of them.

“Wait, taking over? Taking over for what?”

“We’re supposed to watch over you,” Scott said. “In case something goes wrong. I would, but I’ve got a shift at Deaton’s. So Derek’s gonna do it.”

“Oh,” Stiles said, voice small. “Derek’s gonna do it. Of course, Derek’s gonna do it.”

Derek gave him an ‘is that a problem’ look and Stiles gulped, offering his best smile. The man only rolled his eyes and Scott patted him on the shoulder as he left.

Stiles gazed after the boy, half-tempted to follow and maybe beg for mercy, but he was a grown man. He was eighteen years old, dammit, he was not afraid of some stubbled man and his freakishly good looks.

“So,” Stiles said, turning back around. “Babysitting duty, eh?”

“You’re not a baby,” Derek said. He picked up a magazine from Stiles’s desk— one on planting, which Stiles didn’t know why he had— and proceeded to lounge back in Stiles’s bed. He didn’t seem bothered at all. In fact, he almost seemed at home.

“So,” Stiles said, shuffling his feet. “We’re friends? Or something?”

“Or something.”

“But you like me,” Stiles pressed. Derek gave him a strange look and Stiles turned red. “I mean clearly, you have to kinda like me. If you’re here on babysitting duty.”

“Sure, Stiles.”

“That’s not very reassuring, dude.”

“Don’t call me dude.”

Stiles sighed and sunk down into his desk chair. He watched Derek for a moment longer but the man seemed content to ignore him, so Stiles spun his chair around and fixed his attention on his laptop. He assumed there were a lot of things he’d missed. Like his favorite comics. Or movies! There had to be a few new movies.

“Dude!” Stiles screeched after a second of research. Derek startled so hard he nearly rolled off the side of the bed and Stiles spun around, tapping his computer screen in excitement. “There are three new Avengers movies out. Three!”

“Stiles, I swear to god—”

“We have to watch them!”

“You’re going to start remembering things in less than twenty-four hours. What’s the point?”

“Oh my god,” Stiles said. “You’re so sour. This is my chance, dude, to re-experience all the things that bring me joy. Do you know what I would give to be able to read something like Harry Potter again without knowing what happens?”

“Then watch your movies,” Derek said, looking unimpressed. “You have about eight hours.”

“Do you… want to watch them with me?”

Derek looked at him in confusion. Stiles rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged.

“I mean, you don’t have too.”

Derek studied him for another few seconds. Then, silently, he nodded and Stiles grinned. He grabbed his laptop and a few snacks from his lowest drawer— where his future self continued hiding them, thank goodness— and then moved over to the bed, flopping down.

Derek was suddenly very close and very warm, and Stiles nearly shied back. But instead, he flipped his laptop open and offered over a roll of oreos.

Derek accepted them cautiously, like they were a bomb about to go off. Stiles rolled his eyes and clicked to the first movie.

And honestly, this could be worse. Maybe Derek wasn’t so bad.

Stiles’s future self must have readjusted his Lydia marriage plan for some reason.

Stiles woke up when it was pitch black outside and his computer was disregarded on the mattress a few inches away. Blinking a few times, Stiles smacked his lips together, and then his eyes flew open. Memories came flooding back to him and he went shock-still.

Pressed up against his back, with one arm wrapped around his chest and face buried into his neck, Derek groaned. His breaths were warm against Stiles’s neck and after a moment, he shifted.

And then went still too.

“So,” Stiles said. “I don’t think I’m sixteen anymore.”

Derek pulled his face back, but didn’t remove his arm. In fact, his hold seemed to tighten. Stiles felt that make his stomach flip and closed his eyes, biting down hard on his tongue. Derek huffed.

“It’s pitch black and I can still see you blushing.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Stiles,” Derek said. He was quiet for a moment and then there was amusement in his voice. “You think my eyebrows are sexy.”

“Oh my god,” Stiles said, turning his face into the pillow. Leave it to his not-so-sixteen-year-old self to out him. Stiles hated everything sometimes. “To be fair, you have a very nice face, which I have told you on multiple occasions.”

“Usually, in the form of an insult.”

“Are you toying with me, Derek? Because that’s not very nice and I’ll remind you that we are in my bed and—” Stiles suddenly cut off, his face turning red again. “Never mind.”

Derek removed his arm and, after a second, Stiles flipped over to face him. Derek was smiling slightly and that expression so wasn’t fair. Stiles really shouldn’t be freaking out like this. They’d shared a bed before.

Granted, Stiles had either been drunk, running on three days of no sleep, or Derek was crashing after a long night of research. But the point was, it’d been done before. Derek kept his favorite magazines here, goddammit.

So maybe that was more telling than Stiles cared to admit.

“So,” he said. “We gonna talk about this?”

“The part where you think my eyebrows are sexy or the part where I’m your new Lydia ten-year plan?”

“Oh, you asshole!” Stiles said, kicking him in the leg. “Werewolves are not allowed to listen into personal conversations! I don’t care how good your stupid hearing is!”

“Sorry,” Derek said, but he didn’t look very sorry. In fact, he looked a little nervous. “So...”

“So.”

“Was I your gay-awakening dream?”

“I hate you.”

“Hm,” Derek said, leaning closer. Stiles’s breaths caught in his throat and Derek smirked cautiously. “Because if I wasn’t, am I allowed to be now?”

“Are you really— is this really— oh my god!”

Derek chuckled and Stiles pressed forward, catching his lips. This was nowhere near how he’d seen things going, but he’d had Derek on a ten-year plan. And, humming at the back of his throat as Derek growled, Stiles decided he was very okay with this. With not having to wait ten years, that was.

He’d blamed the witch for all of this at first.

He was very thankful now.

- -

This got away from me a little, but oh my god, two prompts? That was a challenge and I love everything about it. Thank you!

(Support your overcaffinated (so much so) student writer? Seriously, I’d adore you guys so much). https://ko-fi.com/rh27writer

#sterek #prompts #ficlet #stiles stilinski #derek hale #auriette #send me prompts!

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shinkookiefanfiction · 4 years

Text

SHE'S MY NOONA

Chapter 27

Inside the ceremonial hall. The celebrities had to sit according to how they were arranged. The BTS who were arranged a little further behind in the dark with other idols and celebs who sat beside them.

Jungkook who couldn't take his eyes off Min ah who was sitting a little further with some actors and model infront. He still couldn't believe he was seeing her it had been 5 long years they have seen eachother, everyday his love for her only grew longing for her and now there she was looking more pretty and dolled up for her debut as a model in korea.

" wow Min ah has really changed, she looks more pretty now I'm afraid other actors and models are going to be chasing her." Jimin spoke bluntly then realized Jungkook who glared at him by just saying that. " mianhaeyo I take that back." He chuckled defending himself.

The boys also looked at her after realizing her presence and she was talking to the other male who were enjoying this new model. " Yah! Look at those Song Jung ki and Lee jong suk all flirting with her." Tae angrily spoke as both the boys watched and exchanges comments while Jungkook just stayed still and watched for long.

When Min ah felt that the boys behind her where at a distance staring at her. She hence decided to turn and wave and the boys who felt ashamed getting caught smiled and waved back but the odd thing Min ah had wave and looked at the boys except Jungkook who felt left out.

Min ah's s p.o.v

" Yah did you just wave at BTS? and they also waved back , I can't believe this, there so behind." I didn't notice Pu reum freaking out cause all I could think of was did I have to ignore him?....atleast I had to,I have to make him but the problem is whenever I see those cute and tempting eyes I get weak all of a sudden and tears would unconsciously form in my eyes.

I didn't want to look back cause it was awkward. I never thought it would be like this. " hey haven't you notice something?" Pu reum my assistant manager said "what?" I asked as she turned to my direction and smiled " from the beginning Jungkook has been staring at you for a long time now." She smiled as she looked behind and I hurriedly stoped her " don't look." I cried as she gave me that curious look.

" wait a minute, you two seem to know eachother cause if a man gives you tha-" she got shocked covering her mouth with both hands. " is he perhaps your x-" " arasso stop this we're not in a conducive environment to discuss this." I said " so it is true that is why you were always asking about their updates and mostly him." She tagged me with a sly smile.

" yeah but he belongs to someone now, there's no past now." I sadly said as Pu reum felt me and pat me on the back " don't feel lonely atleast I'm with you." She tried to lean on my shoulder and stoped her " yah don't you see cameras might focus on me." I chuckled.

It wasn't long before I was called on stage for my debut as a model and I even made friendship with some actors like Soong Jung ki and Lee jong suk who were sitting beside me commenting that i killed it with my look they were really nice to me that i wondered if they could've still be nicer if i wasn't a celebrity.

After various performances including idol performances like Blackpink, Exo, 2pm, 2am,GOT7, super junior, girls generation and many other and finally BTS performed Mic drop their hit song before they disbanded. They really killed it, I could feel them giving it their all as their fans would scream for them.

I looked at Jungkook who were now singing "LET GO." Which was their recent song of 5 years ago. The song they made felt like it was a message from him. I watched him as he sang and he would make eye contact with me as he sang the song which made my eye tearly. I really felt bad for him, he must have suffered right.

"Just hearing this song explains everything, he must really be into you." Pu reum who sat beside me looked at me and rubbed my tears which I didn't realize them falling.

" it must be my mascara right?" I excused myself to leave heading in the washroom. I was in the washroom infront of the mirror why am acting this way? I thought I'd be strong, I should be strong and show him that i was doing fine but I can't I want to hug him infront of other people, I want to kiss him like a normal couple but everything has changed I'm a public figure now. Is it okay for me to date? I asked myself those questions.

After the debut and many more I received flowers from different people. We were about to leave when the boys appeared they were really grown man including Jungkook which was awkward for eachother. The boys hugged and expressed how they missed me like crazy, I was fluttered but Jungkook didn't say anything but just stood there which made my feelings hurt...doesn't he love me anymore?

" you performed really nice, I really loved it." I forced a smile as i tried to hide my cracking voice "okay goodbye see you around even you Jungkook." I said as i hurriedly left.

Later that night

The guys were all blaming Jungkook for not saying anything " you probably hurt her feelings she must be crying right now and insulting you." Tae and Jimin were video chatting with Jungkook as he lay outside near a swimming pool at his home. " I don't know but I felt as if she would hate me more after what happened last time 5 years ago."

" the problem is that your still living in the past and Min ah doesn't hate you but it's you who hates yourself...so if you truly love her fix this." Tae insisted " kumaoh I just don't know what I could have done without you." " I think you should go for her right now." Tae cried and before he even finished Jungkook was already running outside in the car with no idea where Min ah could be.

So He contacted his previous manager, Min ah's uncle and asked for Min ah's home " well I also don't know." " Yah how can you not know your niece's where abouts!?" " yah stop shouting at me, I heard your also at fault you didn't contact eachother when you had the chance." It was true and now he was feeling bad about it cause it just felt awkward running to eachother after breaking up with her. " it's just I felt like I didn't deserve her and I tried to forget her but it was really difficult."

"Then I think you should do the right thing. I know where she currently is but no idea where she lives." Jungkook rushed driving to the congratulation party she was doing with the stuffs in her company.

The party was small but welcoming. Min ah felt good about it, she was happy and she didn't want it to be ruined. Jungkook watched her from afar behind in the corner just seing her smile with those cute dimples gave him enough energy for a day.

She was standing holding flowers and presents giving an emotional speech that she almost was tearly and touched everyone's heart then before she sat she had to scream and everyone was cheering for her to sing even though she wasn't much of a singer. "Arasso I'll sing" she nervously cried then the music from a karaoke started. She seemed nervous but forced herself and started singing, she was singing this song ' because I love you boy'

She was singing it with emotions till she was ending the song she realized someone like Jungkook who was leaving. She hurriedly left to go outside the place, she tried to look around but she couldn't find him " where did he go, was it really him?" She was confused she felt as if she had seen him and maybe misunderstood.

Just then Lee jong suk came outside and number into her. " anyeosseo." She bowed since they were now going to work in the same industry and was her senior. " I really enjoyed your singing." He commented as Min ah felt nervous because she was standing infront of a famous actor, model and musician. " stop saying that your the best I've met." She laughed " kumaoh but it's good for your start." He pat Min ah's head which made Jungkook who was inside his car angry.

" hoping to see you the next time for work." He smiled and left when Pu reum appeared " what was that? we're you two flirting already?" She cried as Min ah shot a glare " mianhaeyo." Min ah continued looking " I'm sure I saw him." She muttered " who?" " nothing." Pu reum asked and Min ah cried and went in to join her friends.

It has been days and there was no contact. It was as if their love was fading. Today Jungkook was revising his script since he got a part as a cameo in a new drama. His personal manager was driving him. " who are the cast?" He asked "actually I myself don't know but it someone famous. Jungkook had no reason to argue, he never wanted to do the script but he had to since he was going to be an actor too and he was good at it.

Later

They arrived at the filming site and it was very busy and hectic so he decided to stay in the van. " I'll go check everything so you just stay still." Jungkook noded as he lay on his seat folding his arms.

Meanwhile

Min ah was also on the set without realizing Jungkook was the selected celebrity for the cameo part. She was not the main character but just the supporting one who was the male protagonist first love. And the main character was Lee jong suk with Han hyo joo.

She was sitted far infront of the van Jungkook was in. She was reading her part nervously asking Pu reum for help who was no of assistance. The main actress had arrived and the two needed time to cope up and know eachother. She watched them with envy. " the two look really good together ."

" mianhaeyo I'm not much of help." Oh reum who realises how lonely Min ah was " yah I'm fine don't look me with those pitiful eyes." " Yah I heard the super star for the cameo has arrived and he's in that van, why don't you go ask him for help and interact with him since you two have a small part together." " Yah are you crazy? How can i go there what if he's tired and maybe doesn't want to interact with me."

Then Pu reum stood and tried to force and drag Min ah to go knock. She also was curious about this actor and finally she was forced to, finding herself infront of the black van with tinted mirror. Swallowing hard her saliva, she gathered all her confidence to knock the door and just before that the van opened making her fall but luckily she felt a hand behind her waist supporting her from falling. Most surprisingly the cameo character was none other than Jungkook.

The two were still holding eachother looking directly at eachother's eyes lost in their own world when a deep male voice interrupted then it was Lee jong ki " I see you two have met." He said as he approached them separating from eachother. " aah?, ne anyeosseo." he bowed slightly bending and introduced himself to erase suspicious.

Jungkook never talked much but after he met there he would always stay alone but what irritated Min ah most was that Jungkook had many female fans even the celebrity ones at the set would always flirt with him.

One time in the dressing room

Jong suk with the other actors were busy getting makeup sitted talking about their personal affairs and Jungkook happened to be nearby sitted. The actors were talking about sports when they started talking about the girls including Min ah who was new.

" So do you happen to know the new actress?" " oh you mean the pretty one Min ah? What about her." One asked as Lee jong suk smiled " aniyo nothing but she something about her makes me attracted to her...is it Jungkook?" Jong suk turned to Jungkook who was mad but decided to hide his feeling. " mianhaeyo I didn't seem to get what you were talking about?" The two age mates faced eachother with a serious faces.

"Min ah you two what was that earlier?" He asked " she almost fell so" " aniyo the way you two looked at eachother seemed to know eachother." Jong suk spoke with curiosity and envy in his voice " so what if I've known her?" Jungkook spoke with a cold tone as a chilly atmosphere filled the room. " well I hope we can cooperate with this drama till we're done." He forced a smile giving a handshake which was strong and lasted for long.

The next day

Min ah was sitted at her spot as usual wearing a flowery dress and a sun hat. She kept looking our for Jungkook and not able to concentrate on her script reading. " Yah are you looking for your prince charming?" Pu reum teased her. When Jong suk came and sat beside her making Pu reum excuse them when he asked.

Min ah's P.O.V

Omo! Jong suk is sitting with me! I was suprised cause till now I still can't believe if I'm shooting the same drama with the guy I used to see on tv. I really somehow felt uncomfortable seeing him sit by me after leaving Han hyo hoo. I could smell his hair and body perfume. " Are you comfortable with me sitting here?" He asked me as if he read my mind " aniyo wae do i look uncomfortable?" I asked myself then he chuckled " well kinda I noticed you being nervous." He whispered with a husky voice.

I was feeling really hot " mianhaeyo it's just I'm a fan of your movies and I can't believe that I'm also acting with you." " Really? I believe you can be better than me." He said, I was so fluttered we stayed there and made stories till when I realised Jungkook who was passing with one actress laughing and talking. I was so hurt and felt angry, look at him laugh and happy, he must have forgotten me.' I found myself muttering that's when I realised I wasn't alone and Jong suk was looking at me as if he was curious about something.

" you know there's this feeling I get that you and J." "- can you help me go over the script." I interrupted him before he said anything else. So I was now focused on the script but deep down my heart, I was crying and my eyes stung holding back my tears.

Jong Ki's P.O.V

I felt something was going on between these two from the first time they met I was sure but what could I do, she was pretty and I was already falling for her. I was going to confess to her the last day of the shooting where we are to gather for celebration and the good thing Jungkook is not going to be there to ruin my plan.

End of P.O.V

Jungkook's p.o.v

Today was my last day of shooting in cameo so I won't be here the following days. There was this part where I get to have a kissing scene with Han hyo joo since i was acting like as Han hyo joo's jerk boyfriend. I can't believe I had to kiss Han hyo hoo infront of Min ah. I stood there as Han hyo joo was preparing and some makeup artist of mine came and fixed my make up.

" Okay we are going to start." The director spoke as my eyes were fixed somewhere else. Han hyo joo arrived near me hugging me from infront " do you think we should pose like this?" She spoke extending her hands on my chest as i hurriedly removed " mianhaeyo" I apologized as she returned a smile " Jungkook don't be nervous we can do this." Hyo joo cried. Okay the set was already fine and we were now going to shoot according to the script, I managed to get a glimpse of Min ah and I saw her leaving she looked frustrated I just looked at her making me wonder if she was okay.

Han hyo joo's P.o.v

I am glad I am filming this with Jungkook. I was really prepared for the kiss scene, I was looking forward to it but when we reached to the set something made me feel angry and disappointed he was grabbing by his shoulders but firmly let go after Min ah appeared and he couldn't stop stealing glances on the set.

I really hate her, every actress in the set are really not friendly with her, she's always alone pretending to be nice to every actor. What a slut! She was now leaving and Jungkook was escorting her with his eyes till the end. He finally was conscious and concentrated to me as i smiled " tomorrow will you be here?" I asked " aniyo this is my last scene where I kiss you and you reject me for the main actor" he chuckled " so I've no scene because you reject me." He smiled with that gorgeous manly smile of his.

" but I haven't really rejected you." I said " ne? " he pardoned when the director told us to get ready as i hurriedly ran to the set.

Shin min ah's p.o.v

Finally the drama was going to be aired tomorrow and today was the last day where we celebrate with the crew. " is he alright?" I asked myself that night when everyone was sitted having dinner and alcohol and talked Lee jong suk was sitted beside me talking to me about my life just then the door opened for another actor came in.

" anyeosseo." He bowed to greet " aah Jungkook come and sit beside me." Han hyo joo cried patting a place beside her on the opposite side of me. "Ne." He resspectedly went and sat. We were now sitting opposite of eachother. I couldn't really look at him, my face felt heavy looking down at the floor.

Just then the restaurant that was booked started putting music which one of them was BTS song ' zero it was really nice " isn t this one of your BTS songs?" Han hyo joo cried " oh ne." He politely agreed.

End of P.O.V

The dinner took abit much when everyone started to get drunk. Min ah was already drunk, she kept drinking she didn't like the way he was there and they weren't talking. Jong suk was a little drunk and he wanted to take care of her. " Min ah let's go." "Andwe! I have to deal with one bastard." She cried " Ooh gosh she's not suppose to drink much." Pu reum tried to stop her but she hesitated that's when Jungkook appeared " let go, she's a light drinker." He appeared and tried to grab her when Jong suk an the other hand stoped him with envy. " what do you think your doing?, she's not your responsibility."

Jungkook could only give him a cold shoulder he didn't want to fight with anyone. " Min ah let's go." He grabbed her hand but Min ah felt hurt and hesitated " Ooh it's...you again....just leave me alone...you you jerk I really hate you.....you never talked to me and gave me a cold shoulder just because...." " Min ah your drunk." " aish this girl!!" Pu reum cried " yah she doesn't want to go with you, don't try and make a scene and just walk out quietly." He got close to him and whispered to him.

" let go I'll take her." Jong suk smiled already grabbing Min ah by her hand as Jungkook stood there again standing not doing anything. This made him angry as he remembered his hyungs telling him to go for the girl before she could be taken by somebody else and now it was happening so quickly infront of him.

Jong suk was holding her with Pu reum till outside. " kumaoh but I think it's enough for today." Pu reum thanked Jong suk " it's okay I'm just doing this for good will and I hope you treat me back for dinner date." He faced the drunk Min ah who just chuckled " Ooh kyeeopta." She pinched his cheeks " arasso." Just then Jungkook appeared out of nowhere and dragged Min ah carrying her on his shoulder like a bag " yah where am I going...this is soooo fun!" She drunkly cried all excited " mianhaeyo but I really have to borrow her!" Jungkook cried entering into his black and white beautiful car.

" Yah! Where do you th-" jong suk cried running towards them when Pu reum got hold of him as the car started leaving. "Just let them go." " you! How could you let her go with him with her." He angrily complained wanting to call his director. " they had been dating for 2 years before they broke up 5 years ago." Pu reum finally blurted it out. Making Jong suk pause and everything. " mianhaeyo Lee jong suk I know you love her but those two really love eachother." She said then decided to leave.

The next day

Light stang my eyes as Cookie licked my face to wake me up, about cookie he's my new dog i got as a present in London but i can't tell you why i named him Cookie and Pu reum pulled my curtains introducing the light that stung my eyes as i cries like a vampire. I laughed at the thought of it making my head hurt. "I must have drank alot yesterday." I stretched myself as Pu reum just chuckled as if i did something stupid. " wait I know that face!, did I mess up yesterday!?" I cried expecting for an answer but she would just say that i should get washed up and come for my hangover soup. I went to wash up as i tried to remember what had happen when I remember jong suk was trying to take me home then he got into a fight with somebody.

Aah why can't I remember!!! My voice echoed in the bathroom. " it's going to kill you if you do that!" Pu reum's voice was heard from my room. I guess I did something wrong.

Pu reum' s p.o.v

I laughed at how she was reacting, she couldn't eat but was trying how to remember what happened. If she does she'll really hate herself.

That night

Jungkook brought her back carrying her bridal style as he made his way to her room where I watched him gently lay her down. They looked really good together I envied Min ah, how could she break up with a guy like Jungkook, just look at his muscular arm.

" isn t she pretty?" I commented as he then looked at me with those eyes I've always seen on screen. " she's more than that." He smiled now facing to Min ah who suddenly woke up pulling Jungkook for an embrace. " Are you gonna leave me again even though I've suffered for you." Her hands were around his neck which made me laugh " yah Min ah would probably be embarrassed when she wakes up.

She shouldn't be doing this, she kept acting like a baby clinging on Jungkook. " would you...kiss me a goodnight sleep?" She managed to speak but all Jungkook could do was smile " Min ah you should sleep, you have another busy day tomorrow." Jungkook forced her to sleep as the two directly stared at eachother like shooting a drama but before I left Min ah kissed Jungkook with a drunken smile " Jungkook....sarangaeo." she nervously said and slept leaving Jungkook frozen.

End of flashback

"Actually you...kissed Jungkook yesterday!" Pu reum cried with a smile as Min ah suddenly dropped her spoon. "Mwo!?" She didn't believe what she was hearing.

#drunk #love #kiss #jelous #jeon jungkook #shinminah #bts

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